Pushing Charts
by Ocean of Ashes
Summary: Ray has always enjoyed being a doctor, but accusations that he doesn't take his job entirely seriously haven't always been amiss. One day though, something happens and he realises there's a lot more to it than just pushing charts.
1. Pancakes

Disclaimer: All characters and material related to the ER belongs to NBC, the writers and all others associated with it. On this story, the plot is down to AceSpade, not me, as is the character of Jake.

Author's Note: Yes, I know, another new fic. I have by no means given up on any of my works in progress, but I have all these ideas plaguing me, begging to be written, and I've been spending so much time jotting down notes on them, I thought I might as well get on and write them. After this, there will be another chapter of Back to the Beginning, I promise. This story probably won't be as long as some of my others, but the idea was pitched to me by AceSpade a little while back, and I liked it, so here it is. Hope you enjoy.

Spoilers: None, this is an AU I guess. Set vaguely in a Michael free Season 12, although timescale isn't really relevant.

'Tea or coffee?' Neela called out from the kitchen.

Over the sounds of the shower, she heard Ray's muffled reply of 'tea please,' as she flicked the kettle on. She got out the mugs and spooned in the necessary ingredients for tea for him and coffee for herself, then she began to rummage in the cupboards for ingredients for pancakes. She was bending over, head stuck in the fridge looking for milk, when she heard a wolf whistle behind her.

'Nice view.'

Neela extracted herself carefully from the fridge and turned round to find Ray standing there, a towel wrapped dangerously low around his narrow hips and his hair looking endearing fluffy from having been towel dried and not yet attacked with the normal handful of gel. She let her eyes travel over his body, rather enjoying the view herself. As he gave her a lazy smile and stepped towards her slowly, she felt a blush flood across her cheeks.

'I'm glad you appreciate it,' she smiled.

His hands slid around her waist, pulling her to him, and he lowered his lips to her neck, playfully nibbling at the delicious skin there.

'Mm, Ray, stop, we have to go to work soon.' Then his tongue started the game his teeth were already playing, and she felt her entire body turn to liquid. She leaned into him for support, winding her arms around his neck to hold herself up. 'Mm, Ray,' she moaned.

Then the kettle began to whistle behind them and Ray pulled himself away from her reluctantly. 'I think my tea might be ready,' he murmured, his lips curling into a grin. Dropping his hands abruptly from her body, Ray looked at her with one of those amazing intense gazes of him, and turned towards his bedroom. 'I'll go get dressed, then I'll get started on those pancakes you seem to be hinting at.' He'd spotted the flour, eggs and milk lined up on the side next to a frying pan.

Neela watched him as he disappeared, her pulse slowly retuning to normal. They had been together for about a month now, though it had been brewing a while longer. It all started during one of their infamous rows when, to shut her up in yet another of her tirades against his mess, laziness or whatever it was she was berating him about that time, he simply grabbed her and kissed her. Her initial thought was to slap him hard – he'd been heading for one anyway – but as his hands tangled themselves in her hair and the movement of his lips gradually coaxed her own open, all thoughts of animosity began to melt away, and she found herself completely overtaken by the feel of him, the sensations he set tripping off one after the other, radiating out from the pit of her stomach to every extremity of her body. Once the kiss had _eventually _finished, her mind had been a little blurry, but she vaguely remembered Ray apologising for whatever he'd done to make her mad in the first place, then smiling that incredible smile of his at her. After that, she was fairly sure there had been more kissing.

They had soon progressed from that to a relationship. In many ways, she supposed even before the kiss, they had been together in all but name as it was. But after two dinners, a gig, a hockey game, and being caught by Morris pressed up against the lockers in the doctor's lounge, it was official, she was actually dating Ray Barnett. She had to say, she still had her reservations, but every time she saw that smile or the look of utter happiness in his eyes every time he looked at her, she managed to put aside her insecurities and just be happy for a change.

At the moment, things were still in the relatively early stages, but she liked the way they were heading, and was pretty sure Ray did too. Although they still ostensibly had their own rooms, they now almost always spent the night together, in one or the other, depending on who had to be up the earliest the next day. In fact, they were falling into quite the little routine now, and she didn't think, in all honesty, she had ever been happier or more content in her life.

Ray wandered out of his bedroom again, dressed now in jeans and a t-shirt. To Neela's delight, he had forgotten to do his hair, and he still had that gorgeous fluffy puppy look about him. Smiling at her, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips as he passed her, he started beating up the things she had laid out into a pancake mix. She watched him as he did so, fascinated by the way the muscles in his arm moved beneath the skin as he whisked the mixture and the look of absolute concentration as he did so. All his movements were so quick, so confident. Had he ever been unsure of anything in his life, she wondered. She couldn't imagine it.

When the pancakes were made, they took them into the lounge to eat and sat on the sofa. Ray felt his heart do a little flutter as Neela made herself comfortable, lifting her legs up off the floor and resting them over his lap. Sometimes, he was still tempted to pinch himself, just to check whether or not it was all real. Neela was actually his girlfriend. Beautiful, amazing, intelligent Neela had become _his _Neela. And the reality most definitely more than lived up to the fantasy. Of course, he was still just a little bit in shock that he _had _a girlfriend. Proper adult relationships were not his forte. Up until Neela, he had been more than happy with his procession of brief flings; they served a purpose and he got to carry on with his life unhindered and uninterrupted. Neela was different though. Right away, she had just gotten under his skin and seeped slowly into his consciousness until every thought he had was of her. And now they were actually together, well, he hadn't quite realised that one person could make you quite so happy.

Before she saw the inane grin on his face that he always seemed to suffer from when she was around, he flicked on the TV and scanned quickly through the channels, settling on the morning's news.

The newsreader was talking about an item about child homelessness in Chicago. Apparently there were literally hundreds of minors living rough in this city alone. Often from very troubled backgrounds, they had turned to drink and drugs, and were disillusioned with the social care system, preferring to make their own way, even in the middle of winter.

'It's dreadful, isn't it?' Neela mumbled through a mouthful of pancake.

'Yeah, poor kids,' Ray said. 'Makes you wish you could do something, doesn't it?'

'It doesn't seem right, that there's no way of reaching out to them,' she agreed. 'They must have gone through some terrible things to make that look like the best option to them.'

Then the item changed to some senator or other who was apparently having an affair with his secretary and they switched it off, not remotely interested in the sordid affairs of politicians. When they finished eating, Neela gathered up the empty plates and mugs, and took them to the kitchen. She emerged again a moment later with a smile on her face and slipped her hand into Ray's for the walk to the station.

They hadn't even reached the doors when they knew they were in for a nightmare shift. As they made their way down the steps from the station and crossed the street, making their way over to the entrance, they suddenly saw that there were no less than three ambulances backed up in the bay. They glanced at each other briefly, and groaned, before they ran over to the action.

'What's going on?' Ray asked as soon as they were within earshot.

'Four vehicle MVA out on the freeway. Two criticals already brought in by chopper, one critical and two serious here. Take your pick,' the paramedic offered.

Several of the other members of the team were already outside, each at a different ambulance. Kovac was directing operations. 'Jane, broken femur and dislocated hip, are you all right with that?' He didn't wait for a yes. 'I'll take the head injury, and Morris, the critical is all yours.' He looked up for long enough to see the new arrivals. 'Ray, Neela, you're with Morris.'

They ran over to the ambulance they were pointed at, and joined Morris, Chuny and Malik. Zadro was giving the patient history. 'Female, late forties, back seat passenger in a car that was hit head on. Abrasions and lacerations to head and face, probable whiplash, displaying signs of alteration before she became unconscious but pupils responsive to light and gag reflex present. BP is 112 over 85, pulse 98.'

As one, they started wheeling her in. As they passed the desk, Morris called out to Frank 'where's free?' and received a gruff 'trauma three' in response.

As soon as they parked up the gurney in trauma three, Morris took control. 'All right. I need a CBC, head CT and a tox screen to make sure there's no other reason for her alteration. Neela, can you do a physical work-up please, make sure there's nothing else we haven't spotted. Ray, central line please.'

After a couple of minutes of working on her in relative calm, Abby appeared in the doorway. 'Do you guys need any help in here?'

'Don't you have one of your own?' Morris asked, ever possessive over his traumas.

'Lost him,' she said simply. 'In full cardiac arrest by the time the helicopter landed. We worked on him for over twenty minutes, but we weren't going to bring him back. Luka said you had the crit.'

Morris quickly filled her in on the details. As he was doing so, Malik suddenly interjected, 'Guys, right pupil has just blown.'

At his words, utter chaos descended. Ray and Neela both abandoned what they were doing and tried to fight their way to the top of the bed. Abby was already there, and Morris was distinctly unwilling to give up his spot at the patient's head. Chuny and Malik were keeping up a constant commentary on the woman's condition, detailing each new deterioration loudly.

As noise filled the room, Morris shouted, 'Quiet.' There was immediate silence as everyone looked at him. 'There's too many of us in here. I can't hear myself think. Ray, you go out and get to work on the board. If we're all working on traumas the waiting room must be packed out.'

'Why me?' Ray asked petulantly. 'Abby was last in, Abby should go.'

'You, because I say you. You've been so damn happy ever since you got it on with Neela that you're annoying the hell out of me. Now go push charts.'

Although he was put out by Morris's crazy, and he had to say, slightly unfair logic, he didn't argue. He'd much rather be working on a trauma, but Morris was right, _someone _had to clear the board, and he was the fastest doctor at streeting patients in the department, so he might actually be able to make an impression on it. Besides, Morris was Chief Resident, and although he might be a jumped up little disciplinarian at times, Ray knew he had to follow his orders.

Sighing, he peeled off his gloves and trauma gown, bundling them up and tossing them away. He made his way back to the admit desk, and grabbed the first chart he came to. Seeing that the patient was in curtain two, he made his way there, flicking through the history to see what he was dealing with. Fifteen year old male, apparently having taken a pretty severe beating. No internal damage, but plenty of bruises and lacerations to clean up. Hmm, could be worse, he thought. He liked dealing with kids, they were far more interesting to talk to than the adults that came in here. Less demanding as well.

Pulling back the curtain, he took a look at the kid in the bed. He looked a little older than his chart said he was, until Ray caught a glimpse of his eyes, one narrowed by a swollen, purple lid, and he realised that the poor kid was _terrified. _That look made him appear about twelve.

Smiling warmly, he stepped towards the bed. 'Hey there. I'm Doctor Barnett, but call me Ray. It's Jake Ford, right?'


	2. Footprints

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you very much to those who reviewed the last chapter; as always, all comments are extremely appreciated and valued. I know this story isn't exactly like what I generally write, but I'm looking forward to doing something different as a bit of a challenge, so I really hope you'll give it the time, and let me know what you think. I'll say this here as well as on the other stuff I've updated lately – due to the amount of stories I've got on the go at the moment, I'll generally be giving precedence to whichever story gets the most reviews, which doesn't mean to say I'll be abandoning anything, just the more you click on that little button, the sooner you get the next chapter. (_NB. _Please see my profile for an appeal for inspiration I'm launching.)

Despite his warm introduction, Ray received little more than a glower and a grunt in return, so he deliberately repeated his question, not letting him get away with not giving a proper answer. 'Sorry, I didn't catch that, you're Jake Ford?'

'Yes,' the boy said sullenly, after a short pause.

'Well, good to meet you man,' Ray returned in a friendly voice. He had a feeling this one was going to be hard work; he had a tough look about him but there was something childish and scared in his eyes that set him apart from the procession of hardened kids that came through here on a daily basis. It was as if he wanted to be helped, even if he didn't know it yet. There was some quality about him that caught Ray's attention and made him want to work at it a bit, not just patch him up and send him on his way, as he knew he was all too guilty of doing at times.

'Likewise,' Jake replied. For a moment, Ray thought he was being serious, then he caught the sardonic smile and the bitter tone to his voice and realised that there wasn't an ounce of friendliness in the boy's reply.

Taking the rebuff in his stride, Ray put the chart down and moved towards the bed a little. 'Right then, I take it you've been in the wars a bit.'

'If that's what you want to call it,' he muttered, half under his breath.

'Okay, let's have a look at you. I'm just going to examine your chest and abdomen all right, to check to see if there's any internal damage.'

'Fine, do what you have to do.'

Ray listened to the boy's chest first, which was clear, then began to roll up the gown so he could have a look at what he was dealing with. He felt almost physically sick at what he saw. He had seen the results of plenty of bad beatings before, even been on the receiving end of one or two, but he only just managed to hold in his gasp of shock when, amongst the many other bruises and scrapes, he saw a perfect bootprint, etched out in a sickening purple colour, stretching across his stomach. It looked truly horrific on the boy's young body.

Ray watched him very carefully as he gently began examining his abdomen, guessing that this kid wouldn't show any signs of pain unless he could help it.

As he scanned Jake's face for a reaction, Ray took in his appearance. He had messy brown hair, the sort that always looked like a hairbrush wouldn't have the slightest effect on its chaotic style, and was fairly tall, and was clearly thinner than nature had intended him to be. His clothes, dumped in a pile next to the bed where they had been discarded when he put the gown on, were dirty and ripped, although Ray wasn't sure if they had been like it before, or it had happened as a result of the beating. It was only his eyes, a hazel brown colour, that offered a window into a softer, more vulnerable personality than the set jaw and permanent scowl suggested.

As his hand moved over the lower left hand part of his stomach, he saw Jake wince suddenly, then battle with himself to return his expression to that cold sort of neutrality that he had fixed upon since Ray had been there. He was biting his lip against the pain.

'Did that hurt?'

Jake shrugged non-commitally.

Ray rolled his eyes in frustration. 'Come on dude, you're going to have to help me out a bit here. You obviously want to get fixed up, else you wouldn't have spent half a day sitting in the waiting room with a bunch of screaming kids and crazy drunks, so just tell me where it hurts.'

Jake stared intensely at him for a moment, a flash of opposition in his eyes before he gave up and caved in. 'Okay, it hurt on the left there, and higher up at the toe of the boot as well.'

'Thank you,' Ray said quietly, a flicker of satisfaction alight in his chest that he had managed to break down, even if only a little, some of the boy's defences. The poor kid must be in agony. Although the stomach injury, the bootprint, was clearly the worst he had suffered, his jaw and eye were also bruised and swollen, with a cut, caked in dried blood above his eye, his knuckles grazed and scraped, and Ray was sure he must be in quite a bit of pain.

Once he had finished his examination, he pulled up a stool and perched himself on it, making sure he was talking to the boy down on his level. 'Right,' he began to explain. 'I want to do a CT scan on your belly, just to have a look and make sure you don't have any internal bleeding or a ruptured spleen or anything. I'm pretty sure you don't, your blood pressure is good and you don't _seem_,' he raised an eyebrow questioningly, showing that he wasn't taken in by the determined display of indifference, 'to be in the sort of pain that would indicate a serious problem, but I've got to check it out, okay?'

Jake nodded, and Ray could tell that even though he was pretending not to be interested, he was listening intently.

'And according to your chart, you've got a temp of 99.8 so it looks like you're running a bit of a fever as well, so I'll get a nurse to come and take some blood and send it for a couple of tests. Probably just a touch of flu or something, have you been ill lately?'

'A bit of a cold,' he admitted.

'Right, that's what it'll be then. Are you taking anything for it, Tylenol or something?' He shook his head and Ray made a couple of notes on the chart before looking at him again. 'Is there anyone you want me to call, your parents or a relative or someone?'

'No.' His answer was quick, a little too quick, and he knew it. He tried to cover. 'They're out of town, my grandmother's ill and they've gone upstate to see her for a couple of days.'

'Are you at home on your own?'

'The neighbour looks in on me. It's fine,' he insisted.

Ray looked at him shrewdly. If the story was true, he didn't think that situation was too much of a problem, a fifteen year old, clearly sensible kid, was perfectly capable of looking after themselves for a couple of days if there was an adult on hand to check on them and turn to if there was a problem – it wasn't something he would generally see as worth bothering Social Work with, but there was something about it in this particular incidence that didn't ring true. This kid was definitely hiding something. He had been altogether too reluctant for his parents to be contacted, and any fifteen year old who came in having taken a beating like that had to be in some kind of serious trouble.

'I don't think it is fine actually. I really think your parents should be called.'

At that, Ray noticed Jake began to get fidgety. His eyes flickered around the room, as if he was assessing the possibility for escape. 'Jake,' Ray pressed, 'what is it that you're not telling me?'

Jake looked down, refusing to meet Ray's eyes. After a long silence, he muttered something very quietly, which Ray didn't quite catch. 'I'm sorry man, I didn't hear that. What did you say?'

'I said, it's just me,' he repeated, only fractionally louder than before. This time, Ray heard him, and tried to rearrange his face into a smile, hoping the boy wouldn't be offended by what he intended to be empathy rather than sympathy. He did his best not to look too pitying but he didn't think he succeeded. All he could think of was those kids that he and Neela had seen on the news that morning and how desperate they must be. He had an idea, then, of why Jake might be in the state he was in, how he had gotten the beating.

'Jake, do you live on the streets?' The lack of answer, combined with the stolid refusal to meet his gaze was all the reply Ray needed to confirm the truth.

Ray allowed a silence to fall between them, sensitive to Jake's feelings. There were tears in the boy's eyes, and he knew that Jake would do anything to prevent anyone from seeing him cry, so Ray gave him the time to regain control, even if that meant that his barriers would be back in place.

Eventually, he said, 'I want to get someone to come and talk to you Jake.'

'Who?'

'A social worker.'

'_No!_' he shouted instantly. 'No damn social workers.' Whatever happened, he _wasn't _going to be talking to any social workers. They were a bunch of useless do-gooders who couldn't care less. In fact, they were worse than that, they pretended to care, which in Jake's eyes was the worse crime of all.

He had spoken to enough of them over the years to know that all they trotted out was lies and false hope. He had had quite enough of that.

Ray carefully noted the boy's reaction, but pushed a little harder, trying to work out how far he could go in trying to help this kid. 'One of the social workers here, she's very nice, and –'

'Were you not listening to me? _I said, no social workers_,' he repeated angrily. He sat up, and hauled himself out of bed, a hand clutched to his stomach as he stood hunched over in pain. 'I gotta get out of here. I'm off if you're getting those guys involved.' His voice had gotten a little panicky, and before Ray could get around to the other side of the bed to stop him, Jake had pulled on his jeans and threw his hoodie on over the hospital gown. He jostled past Ray, bumping into him heavily, and Ray was surprised at his strength given his injuries. He reached out and grabbed the boy by the shoulder.

'Woah there buddy. You're not going anywhere. I've still got to fix you up.'

Jake struggled hard to pull himself free from Ray, with the advantage of three or four inches in height, as well as ten years in age, soon managed to get the upper hand. Trying not to exacerbate the injuries in any way, he forced Jake back towards the bed.

'Fine. No social workers.' The boy had completely flipped out, but as soon as Ray promised to keep the social workers out of it, he seemed to calm down to a degree, and stopped fighting Ray's efforts to get him back into the bed.

Just at that moment, Chuny poked her head around the door, and Ray called out to her. 'Chuny, could I have a suture kit in here please, and get Jerry to order a decent meal to be sent in as well. And when I'm done with my needlework, could you take some blood, I want a CBC done.'

'No problem.'

When Chuny returned with the suture kit, he set it up while she took the blood that was needed. He put on a pair of surgical gloves and returned to the bedside. 'Okay then, I'm going to give you a small shot of local anaesthetic to numb your eyebrow while I'm stitching you up. Do you want me to numb where I put the needle in?' It was an option Ray would definitely have taken every time. He would have had to shut his eyes as well – imagine a great big needle coming straight at your face.

But Jake seemed unperturbed. 'No thanks, just get on and do it.'

Ray worked in silence until he was about to put the last stitch in. Before he did so, he leant back from the bed and looked Jake straight in the eye. 'So, if you're not going to tell a social worker what's going on, how about telling me instead?'

Jake blinked in surprise. It had been a long time since he'd met anyone who cared enough to ask. 'Long story,' he said, in the sort of tone that practically begged for someone to question him further.

Ray smiled grimly. 'Try me.'


	3. Flight risk

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I'm grateful as always for the time you take to read and review my writing. I'm going on holiday in a couple of days, so this might be the last update you see from me for a short while, but don't worry, I'm only away for a week, and I'll be back writing again when I'm home.

Jake looked, as best he could through his half closed, anaesthetised eye, at Ray with curiosity. He didn't quite understand why he was showing such an interest, and, not understanding, he was reluctant to trust him. Jake hadn't really met anyone who he could trust before, and wasn't about to make that leap of faith on account of a brief chat. He'd been let down too often for that.

Besides, people who asked questions usually just wanted to stick their noses into his business. Social workers, teachers, just adults in general really, all those people who liked to think they knew what was good for him; all they ever did was ask questions and try to persuade him that their way was the right way. Well, he'd shown them. He was on his own and he was okay. Maybe he didn't exactly have a bed to sleep in at night, but hey, it wasn't that bad. He didn't have to answer to anyone except himself. He didn't have anyone nagging him and telling him what to do. And he if he was a little cold at night, well, there was nothing like half a bottle of cheap vodka to keep you warm from the inside.

'Why should I tell you?' he said sulkily. If this doctor guy wanted to get him talking, he was going to have to try a whole lot harder than a sympathetic smile. He might think he knew it all, but he didn't. What had he ever known about life? If he was a doctor, he must be rich and clever, some wealthy parents to pay his way through college. Probably had some beautiful girlfriend to keep his bed warm at night too, the bastard.

He didn't have a clue what it was like to curl up in a cardboard box under the El tracks, waking up every time a train came trundling past overhead, making the ground shake. He didn't know what it was like to be absolutely, completely alone in the world. And if he didn't know that, then he was from a world that had nothing to do with Jake's world, except make it worse. In fact, he wasn't any different from any of the others who had tried to get inside his head or whatever over the last few years, even if he was young, and didn't look like how a doctor should.

Ray didn't answer him for a little while, taking his time to put in the final suture. When he did speak, his voice was deliberately casual. 'I don't know. Might help, that's all.'

Jake couldn't decide if this guy was playing him, or just laid back. He had gotten good, over the years, at figuring people out, but he was at a loss here and felt the disadvantage keenly. Normally, he had the measure of all the people who usually felt the need to bother him in the first couple of minutes of talking to them, and spun them a story accordingly. He wasn't sure what to do now, so went for straightforward defensive. 'How does _talking _help?' he replied cynically.

'Well,' Ray said lazily, as if he was only half thinking about what he was saying, 'telling someone what's going on might stop you getting another bootprint on your stomach.' He paused, then looked the boy straight in the eye with a piercing gaze, to emphasise his next words. 'Unless you want a matching pair of course.'

Jake turned away, and Ray sensed he'd gone in a little too hard and too fast. He'd thought that cutting the crap would be the way to get through to the boy, but obviously he wasn't quite ready to discuss his situation so starkly. He decided to give him a little more time to think, so Ray gathered up the instruments he had been using, and got up to go.

'Look, I'm just going to get the portable CT scanner to have a look at your belly, like I said. I'll be five minutes, then I'll be straight back. All right?' Ray didn't expect an answer, but he was determined to get one. 'All right, Jake?'

'Whatever dude,' he said, not looking up.

Ray headed out to the admit desk, where Jerry was standing over the computer, using one hand to hit it on the top of the monitor, and the other to eat a jelly doughnut. 'Jerry, those things work better when you ask them nicely.'

'You talk to computers?'

'Well, I don't hit them. I'm anti-violence. Do you know where the portable CT machine is?'

'Morris had it in one of the Trauma rooms I think,' he said around his mouthful of doughnut.

'Cheers. Oh, I've got a flight risk in there,' he pointed back to the room he had come from. 'Can you keep an eye on him? Fifteen year old kid, beaten to a pulp. If he does a runner, stop him, but try to talk him out of it rather than grabbing him. I don't want him going anywhere until I've managed to talk to him.'

'No problem. Do you want me to page Psych or Social Work on him?'

'Umm, no,' Ray said, after a brief deliberation. 'Hang fire on that for a bit. I don't think he'd respond very well to that.'

'Okay.'

Ray disappeared off to find the portable CT machine, following where Jerry had told him. As soon as he showed his face in the trauma room, Morris jumped down his throat. Things obviously weren't going too well. 'I thought I told you to push charts.'

'Hey, don't sweat it man. That's what I'm doing, I'm just after the portable CT that's all. How are things going in here?'

'Not so good.' Abby was the one to reply. 'We're on our tenth round of epi and _someone _won't admit defeat. Pupils fixed and dilated, no gag –'

'Are you suggesting we just _give up_?'

'Morris, there's no hope of a meaningful recovery,' Neela interjected. 'Both Surgery and Neuro are MIA, and it's too late for them to be of any use now. It's time to call it.'

'No it isn't, you bunch of quitters.' If it was true that Surgery and Neuro hadn't answered their pages about this, then there would probably be an M&M if the woman died, which was now looking inevitable. M&Ms were a hassle and no doctor liked to go through them, so Ray could sympathise to an extent with Morris' continued determination, especially as he was running the trauma, but sometimes you just had to stop. It was never easy, but you couldn't save them all.

'Chuny, could you go and find Luka please. I think an attending should be here,' Abby said solidly.

'I'm your Chief Resident. You can't go over my head like that.' Morris sounded outraged at Abby's request.

Ray smirked at the spiralling chaos. He'd initially been annoyed that Morris had thrown him out of the trauma, but seeing how it had turned out, he wasn't exactly sorry. It was never nice to lose a patient, and Morris sounded like he was being an ass.

Besides, he had managed to bag himself an interesting patient in Jake Ford. The kid was in need of some help, and it didn't look like people were queuing up to be his guardian angel. Ray wasn't sure how much it was his place to get involved, but he wanted to do what he could to help. He had a feeling he stood a better chance of getting Jake to open up to him than Wendall Meade or someone from Psych.

'Well, guys, I think I'm going to leave you to fight this one out between yourselves. I've got a fifteen year old who's come off worse in a fight with someone or something much bigger than he was.'

He wheeled the portable CT machine out before him, and he didn't think anyone heard him go. Morris and Abby were arguing again, and Neela was trying to talk over both of them, attempting to diffuse the situation, but the fact that she was shouting, combined with her clearly taking Abby's side, made it seem that she was only inflaming things.

No doubt she would be in a foul mood by the time they got home. He was looking forward to helping her relax. A hot bath maybe, a glass or two of wine, then… Woah, calm yourself there Barnett, he thought to himself, cutting himself off before his mind travelled too far in a direction that, right now, it was not appropriate for it to be heading in. Now was neither the time nor the place to get carried away like _that. _He looked quickly at his watch. Only eight and a half hours of his shift to go. No, now was definitely not the time to get carried away.

He made his way back to where Jake was waiting for him to return, slipping quietly past the exam room where by the look of it Jane was still struggling with a hip reduction. He didn't want to be roped in to help. He had a feeling that if he left him too long, the chance of Jake still being there when he returned was slim.

When he got back to the bay he was in, Ray pulled back the curtain. 'Okay then Jake, I'm just going to–' He stopped speaking abruptly when he realised he was talking to an empty bed. Jake's dirty, tattered clothes were gone, and the hospital gown he had been wearing was lying on the bed, crumpled in among the disturbed sheets.

'_Shit_,' Ray exclaimed loudly, giving the gurney a frustrated kick before storming back to the admit desk.

When he got there though, Jerry was nowhere to be seen. He was about to give up and go in search of Jake – time was of the essence; he didn't want to lose him, and besides, he still hadn't entirely ruled out internal bleeding – when he heard a clattering noise from under the desk.

Peering over, he saw Jerry with a screwdriver in his hand, looking slightly non-plussed, the lid of the computer's hard drive having just fallen off. 'Dammit Jerry, is this what you think monitoring a flight risk is?'

Jerry slowly extracted himself from under the desk and clambered to his feet. 'You were only gone a minute. I was going to go and check on him in five.'

'Five? Five, Jerry? He's a homeless kid, scared shitless and hates the system. He doesn't need five minutes to escape; five seconds is enough and _you damn well gave them to him._'

'Sorry, I –'

But Ray didn't have time to listen to apologies. He wasn't interested. He began to hurry towards the doors, but as he did so, he turned back to Jerry and pointed at him angrily. 'If this kid is gone, then I'm holding _you _responsible.'

'Do you want me to call Security?' Jerry called out in response.

'Security? Big guys in official uniforms? Yeah, really clever idea there,' Ray shot back sarcastically, before the sliding doors closed behind him.

Once he was outside, Ray looked around him. He hadn't paid a lot of attention to Jake's clothes, beyond the fact they were in almost as much of a mess as he was, so he wasn't even sure what he was looking for. He dashed up the steps to the El station and ran along the platform, scanning the people standing around for the boy's bruised face. There was no sign of him though.

He then crossed the road to the Jumbomart, and asked the girl behind the desk if they'd had a kid in, and described Jake briefly, but he drew a blank there as well. He wasn't sure quite where else to go, when over on the corner, he spotted a kid of about Jake's age and build leaning against a lamppost, trying to light a cigarette with slightly trembling hands.

Tentatively, he walked over to him. Jake had his back to him, but as he drew closer, Ray knew it was him. By the look of his hunched shoulders, he was in some pain. His hands were also shaking so much, Ray could now see, that he couldn't manage to light the cigarette.

'Need a hand with that?' Ray offered.

Jake spun around at the sound of his voice, and instantly winced at the sudden movement. 'Umm, thanks,' he replied, not sure what else to say.

Ray took the lighter from it and deftly flicked the flame into life, holding it to the end of the cigarette while Jake took a drag.

'Thanks,' he said again, eyes closed to savour the hit. It was only nicotine, but hey, it was better than nothing.

'No problem. Those things can kill you, you know.'

Jake looked sideways at the doctor. He didn't think he'd ever met anyone before who would light a cigarette for him, only to tell him it was going to kill him in the next breath. 'So can crossing the street, but funny how no-one tells you not to do that.'

'How about you crossing the street back to the hospital and let me fix you up properly?'

Jake then gave Ray the first hint of what just might have been a genuine smile. Jake didn't want to like this guy, because letting people in only made you weaker, made it easier for you to get hurt, but he couldn't help himself.

'Depends on what you're offering to fix me up with.' He laughed as he said it, intending it to be a joke, but Ray was watching him carefully and he saw that the humour didn't quite reach the boy's eyes. He made a mental note to check his arms for track marks when he had the opportunity. He'd have to run a tox screen as well.

'I was thinking a couple more tests, but on the upside, you get a bed for the night and a decent meal.' It was an offer Ray didn't think the boy would refuse; he looked like he was in great need of a warm bed and hot food. He hoped it was going to be the clincher; at the moment, all Ray really wanted to do was get him back inside and worry about the rest of it later.

'Will there be jell-o? I haven't had jell-o in years.'

Ray laughed, hearing the acceptance in Jake's voice, and felt a breath he didn't know he was holding leave him in relief. 'It's hospital food man. There's always jell-o.'

Jake took the last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out under the heel of his boot. 'You've got yourself a deal then.'


	4. Bargaining

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter has been so long in coming. For some reason, this story seems to have inadvertently taken a back seat compared to my others and I'm not sure why, because I rather like it! I'll try and make a bit more of an effort to update this one a bit quicker in future. And, naturally, I would love you all if you would review accordingly.

Ray had to help Jake across the road and back into the hospital. He allowed the boy to put an arm around his shoulders and supported him carefully, taking as much of his weight as he could. There was only a couple of inches difference in their heights, so it wasn't as hard or awkward to do as Ray thought it might have been. As they were walking the short distance, Jake gave an occasional grunt of pain, and when Ray took his eye off the traffic to glance across at him, he saw his face twisted into a grimace.

'Are you all right?' he asked, studying him carefully in full doctor mode. Perhaps he'd been wrong when he thought there hadn't been internal damage. 'Where's the pain?'

Jake smiled wryly, and even though there was something depressing about the resignation, Ray was pleased that at least he seemed able to smile. It was a proper smile this time, not the cold falseness of earlier. 'Kind of all over,' he replied. 'It's not too bad though, no worse than usual.'

'Usual?' Ray raised an eyebrow.

'Dude, I live on the streets. I don't exactly have a caring mother to tuck me in at night. This isn't the first time I've ended up like this, it's just never been this bad before.' He sounded too worldly for someone of his age.

Ray wanted to ask him what happened the next time. What if next time it was worse? What if there wasn't anyone to patch him up? He knew he couldn't push him though, not yet. He was very conscious that even now, the boy's courage to stay was hanging on by a thread, and any questions, anything he didn't want to answer, could be enough to make him take off again, and Ray knew that he might not be lucky enough to find him a second time.

Jake made the most of Ray's silence to reflect on just why he had given in and returned to the hospital. He told himself that he wasn't trusting anyone, oh no, he was simply going back for the warmth, the food, the bed, and maybe the chance to get his hands on some drugs that were lying around. You never knew your luck, after all, did you?

He pushed firmly to the back of his mind the odd feeling of relief he felt that this doctor had come to find him. He didn't know why he was letting him help, and he certainly didn't know why he had actually told him the truth. Normally he was so good at inventing a life, hiding the harsh reality. His parents are out of town. He lives with his grandmother but she's housebound so he's out and about a lot on his own. Anything he could think of. Sometimes he even went out of his way to make it as elaborate as possible, just for kicks. But no, this time he'd just come out and said it.

_I live on the streets._

It hadn't been as hard as he had thought it would be. He'd been living rough for just over a year now, and yet he'd never said those words, acknowledged the truth of his situation, even to himself. Every night as he wrapped himself in his scraggy coat, and even scraggier blanket, which he had now lost – it had been ripped and wrecked during the beating – and took a warming slug of whatever he'd managed to get his hands on, vodka, whiskey, beer, he'd always told himself that this was just temporary. Something that he was doing, out of choice, to get away from the life he'd led before. And when he _chose _to do something about it, he would be able to.

It was a lie, of course. He was in trouble, and a lot of it. He had been before today, but now it was worse. He hoped that perhaps if he could wangle a couple of nights in hospital, the people who were looking for him – he doubted that one beating was going to be considered sufficient punishment – might stop looking. Or else perhaps he could steal something he could sell, make some money, perhaps pay off a bit of what he owed, or else buy a bus ticket and get the hell out.

It took them some time, but after a little while, and more than a little effort, Ray had Jake back onto the gurney he had vacated earlier. He wasn't a light kid, and by the end of it, Ray was a touch out of breath. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and took off his lab coat for a minute to cool down, throwing it over the back of the chair. He saw Jake eyeing his t-shirt.

'Don't tell me you haven't heard of The Clash?'

'Should I have?'

'_Everyone _should have,' Ray said emphatically.

Jake grinned at him cheekily. 'Well, I guess I'm not old enough to remember…' he jibed.

'Hey, neither am I. I'm just musically educated, that's all.' Ray enjoyed the banter with the kid. He knew it was helping. The more they got talking, even about completely irrelevant things like music, Ray hoped the more able he would be to gain Jake's trust. He knew that was the key to helping him.

He smiled and handed him another gown. 'Sorry, I know these things are horrible, but policy and all, you've got to wear it. I'll give you a minute to get changed.' Then Ray looked at Jake warningly. 'I'm going to be right outside the curtain though.'

'So I can't do a runner?'

'Absolutely. I don't want you going anywhere this time until I'm sure you're okay.'

While Ray was waiting outside the curtain, he had been intending to listen carefully to Jake, make sure he was all right getting changed without assistance, but he soon became distracted by a scene out by the admit desk. Morris was having yet another argument with Albright.

'Where the Hell were you? Are you so full of yourselves up in Surgery that you're above answering pages now?'

'Oh, please forgive me. I was busy saving a patient that actually was not beyond saving, unlike yours I hear. Unless of course it was beyond your ability. That's why you needed my help, perhaps?'

Ray smirked. God, that Albright was an icy bitch, but she sure did know just how to wind people up, especially Morris. He waited for the explosion.

'Needed? Needed? Help?' Morris stuttered, lost for words. 'You're meant to be available for consults. It's your job. We keep them alive, you patch them up. It's the way it works.'

'I can't help it if my considerable skills are in such high demand,' she replied coolly in response to Morris' increasing frustration. In fact, Ray thought his colleague's face might be in danger of becoming _more _red than his hair.

'My patient died!'

'In that case, I guess I'll see you at the M&M.' She turned on her heel, and left Morris sputtering in her wake.

Ray was tempted to go over and have a chat, find out what had happened, but just then, he heard Jake call out from behind the curtain.

'I'm done.'

Ray tore himself away from the drama and stepped back towards Jake. For a moment, he saw something different in the boy's eyes, the slightest flash of guilt, then he blinked and it was gone so quickly he doubted it had been there at all. A trick of the light, he told himself.

'Right then Jake, I'm going to do this scan of your belly, okay? To check whether there's any internal bleeding.' Jake nodded. 'You wanna know exactly what I'm doing?'

'Not really, just do your stuff.'

The scan showed that there was indeed no internal bleeding, and when Ray told Jake, he saw the smile of relief, but it was soon replaced by a slight frown. 'I still get to stay here tonight, don't I?' he checked.

'Of course. You're not getting out of here until I've run a few more tests.' Was it his imagination or did Jake look just a bit wary? He tried to have a look at his arms for any sign of trackmarks amongst the bruises and dirt, but they were folded across his chest and Ray couldn't see the area where they might have been.

When he told him that he wanted to take some blood, Jake screwed his face up in reluctance. 'Do you have to? I hate needles.'

Ray wasn't entirely sure about that statement, but he didn't challenge its veracity. Instead, he said, 'I just want to make sure there's nothing underlying. You're not bleeding internally, but you're still in a lot of pain. Just checking that that fever you're running is just a cold, stuff like that.'

'All right then.' Without having to be asked, Jake stuck out his left arm. Ray looked at it. No marks.

'Left handed then,' he commented, glancing at Jake with a knowing expression. He didn't want to come across as a smartass but he wanted Jake to know that he had the measure of him.

'Huh?' The boy looked puzzled as to how Ray had known.

'I'm not as stupid as I look Jake. There are no trackmarks on your left arm, which means you use your left hand to inject. Am I right?'

Once again, Jake tried to get out of bed, but he was weak from his earlier escape, and Ray easily restrained him. 'Are you accusing me of doing drugs?' he shouted angrily, immediately on the defensive, which was all the evidence Ray needed.

'Accusing you? No. I'm stating a fact. Heroin, right? Anything you can get your hands on, but heroin if you can.'

Jake stopped fighting and sank back to the bed. 'How…?'

'Like I said Jake, not as stupid as I look.' He felt suddenly jaded by how he _had _known so easily. It indicated that he had seen too many kids like Jake already. He took his lab coat off the chair, putting it back on again, and sat down. 'Now, are you going to tell me what's going on? And I mean what's really going on.' Jake was already beginning to shake his head and look away. 'Because I can't help you otherwise.'

'Who says I need help?' He was surly, proud to the last.

'The bruises say you do. So do the trackmarks. You're fifteen, man. There's a lot of help out there for you if you want it.' Silence, and Ray sat back in the chair, crossing his legs. 'For starters, you're in a lot of pain. I bet you'd like something to ease it a bit.'

At last, a nod.

'Thought as much. Some Demerol do you all right?' It might not have been the wisest thing to offer a junkie, but he didn't think Jake was a full addict yet. Well on the way perhaps, but not beyond redemption. And heroin was his poison, not pain meds.

There was an eagerness in Jake's eyes that wasn't quite hidden by his casual, 'sure, whatever.'

'All right, I'll get you some Demerol,' Ray said, and saw a smile light up the boy's face. He hated himself for making such a bargain. The enthusiasm Jake expressed at the prospect of being offered a drug, of any sort, was grotesque, especially in someone so young. Ray wondered if you could love and hate a job at the same time, maybe even for the same reasons. He loved helping these kids, but he hated it that they needed help in the first place. It should never come to this.

'_If…_' The smile disappeared. '_If_ you tell me everything. And I mean, who did this to you, why did they did it, why are you on the streets in the first place, what are you running from, where are you running from. The works.'

Jake glared at him darkly, positively mutinous.

'Think of all that pain you're in,' Ray dangled the carrot. 'Just gone. For hours.' For a long time, the two of them stared at each other, without so much as blinking. Then Jake's gaze flickered down for just a second and Ray knew he had won.

'Fine. Get me the drugs and I'll tell you.'

Ray laughed dryly, and shook his head. 'Oh no, it doesn't work like that Jake. The pain relief is a reward, not an incentive. Story first, Demerol after.'

Jake threw up his hands in defeat. He had been entirely worn down, he was too tired to carry on fighting everyone and everything, all time. He usually lost. And he had to admit, he was a little curious. It had felt oddly good to tell this doctor that he lived rough, a weight off his shoulders, a secret shared or whatever. And that had just been one part of it.

Maybe telling someone the whole story would be even better.


	5. Close to Home

Disclaimer: As before. Credits to Wikipedia for the stuff about Philly – my research goes as far as getting correct names for actual places in the city, whether these are residential districts or not, or whether or not they are rough (as in one case I suggest) unfortunately I do not know.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, they are very _very_ much appreciated as this story doesn't seem to get very many. I feel rather sorry for it actually, in my humble opinion I think it deserves more. I did say that I'd be trying to spend more time on this story, so here goes the next chapter. (Oh, and I know in the show there is now a discrepancy as to whether Ray's from Philadelphia or Baton Rouge, but when this was set, it was presumed to be Philly, so that's what I'm going with here.)

Jake sighed heavily, and Ray knew that he was going to talk at last. He sat back in the chair, interested to hear what he was going to say. He couldn't imagine what would drive a sensible, smart kid like Jake onto the streets but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be a nice story.

He felt awful about withholding the pain relief, his conscience nagged him, but he couldn't think of any other way to coerce the truth out of him. He'd tried every less extreme method he knew, and he didn't want to throw him over to Psych or Social Work without giving him a chance to explain.

He didn't know why he was determined to go to such lengths to help his boy. He saw at least one Jake Ford every week, usually more like one a shift, but none of the others had drawn him in in quite the same way. All right, so there had been some that he'd gone out of his way to help, the boy who had to decide on his father's treatment (Ray's insides still curled up in shame over that one – no wonder Neela had stormed after him to his gig to give him that well deserved tongue lashing over it), and that sickle cell kid, Eugene, who everyone thought was just a drug seeker, but it was Ray who had found out that the poor kid had actually been raped.

None of them though, had possessed the charisma, the instant likeability that Ray found in Jake. He wasn't sure what it was. He was hard, certainly, every bit as hard as all the other kids that came in, but he seemed to have retained his sense of humour, dry though it was, through whatever it was he had been through. What was more, there was a vulnerability in his dark eyes, highlighted by the shadowly circles of sleeplessness underneath them, that begged for help even though, vocally, he denied it.

'It's all right Jake,' Ray said quietly. 'In your own time.'

Where to start? Jake thought. He'd spent so long trying to erase it from his memory he wasn't sure how to go about recalling it. Not that he'd forgotten. He could never forget. Ray was waiting expectantly, but Jake didn't feel like he was being pushed. Just… encouraged.

He supposed the best place to start was the beginning. 'I… I'm from… Philly originally.'

Ray smiled in recognition. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to interrupt – he had hated his Psych rotation and as soon as it was over, made a point of promptly forgetting everything that he didn't immediately need for emergency medicine – but he wanted this to be as much of a conversation as possible. He didn't want to come across as some adult looking over him, listening and nodding and not really paying proper attention. He wanted to engage with him.

So he took the risk. 'Hey man, so am I. What neighbourhood?'

Jake glanced at him in slight surprise, not having expected that. He scanned Ray's face to see if he was bullshitting him, making up crap to connect or whatever, but there was nothing but simple interest in the doctor's eyes, so he answered. 'West Philly, umm, Walnut Hill?'

'Oh, I know it,' Ray replied. It wasn't one of the nicest parts of the city, to say the least. 'Between 46th and 52nd, right?'

'Yeah, that's the one. What about you?'

'Way on the other side of town. Far Northeast, Millbrook.' He remembered the house now, small and wooden, neat, a white picket fence that he was made to paint every summer, and both house and garden kept impeccably clean by his mother

'Never got out there,' Jake said. 'What's it like?'

'Nice, dull though. Suburbia. I went away to college when I was eighteen, then my mum left there anyway. Haven't been back in a long time.' Then he saw a way to neatly turn the conversation back to Jake, to where he was hoping to direct it.

'What about you? How long since you've been there?' He wasn't sure how subtle it was, but he was fairly certain he had the boy's trust now, and hoped that it would be enough to get him talking about himself again. Besides, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to talk about his own past. It wasn't bad, nothing like Jake's story, but it was… well, in the past. He was someone else now. Since he'd been with Neela, someone better.

Jake grinned. 'Smooth.'

'Thank you. I like to think so.' He smiled his charming smile. 'So?'

This guy was good, Jake had to admit. 'Oh, it's been a while. I left a few times, but I used to keep winding up back there. Then I managed to get away for good, and I ended up here.'

He was evasive more out of habit, Ray guessed, than a desire to hide the truth. He wasn't going to let him get away with it though. He'd meant it, no honesty, no help.

'More specific Jake,' he warned gently, but there was a serious, no nonsense edge to his voice.

'All right, all right. Sorry, habit.' He gave Ray a brief, tight smile, then his eyes slid away, and he stared into the middle distance, lost in old memories. 'My mother, well, if you can call her that – I don't – is, was, whatever, an alcoholic. I guess she loved me in her own way, but she loved vodka a whole lot more. I went into care for the first time when I was five. That was one of the all right times, the family I went to then were real nice. They had two other kids, one of their own and another foster kid like me, roughly my age to keep me company. I'd never had friends before then, or people to care about me, or anything much. All I really remember about being there is I had toys and playmates, and three meals every day, and the electricity didn't keep getting cut off and stuff like that.'

Ray waited quietly for more.

'Then my mum, _Sally_, cleaned her act up, well, enough to convince the social workers to let her have me back, and I was dragged away from the Turners, that was their name, my first foster parents. It was all a bit of a blur, but I just remember screaming and crying when Sally came to collect me; I didn't want to leave. I _never _wanted to leave. Even now, I wish I hadn't.'

Ray didn't know what to say. Jake said it had happened when he was five, which made it all ten years ago. He'd still been in Philly then. At eighteen, he'd been messing around, having just finished high school and was keeping his fingers crossed for the grades he needed for college. He'd been skateboarding and flipping burgers and playing his guitar without a care in the world. And all the time, on the other side of the city, this poor kid had been having his life blasted apart.

But before he could think about it too much, Jake was continuing with his story. Ray put aside his own pain at the thought of it to listen.

'Anyway, Sally didn't stay on the wagon for long; she never did. For the next five years, I was shunted from foster families to care homes and back to her so many times I lost count. I hated them all, but I think I hated being with her the most. Then I used to remember that she was my mother, and that I shouldn't hate her, and I ended up hating myself then.'

'Jake, I…'

But Jake didn't allow Ray to interrupt him. He was on a roll. This was the first time, ever, that he had told the whole story, to one person. Sometimes he hadn't been able to avoid telling some people part of the story, but never everything. Never the entire truth. It had taken more courage than he thought he had to start, but now he had, there was no way he could stop until the very end.

'I ran away for the first time when I was ten. Didn't get far though,' he added ruefully. 'I think I reached the end of the street before Sally's boyfriend came chasing after me and dragged me back.'

'Your mum's boyfriend?'

'Oh yes, there were plenty of those. Alcoholics, gamblers, addicts. You would have thought sometimes a decent one would pop up, but not one, ever. And they all hated me just as much as I hated them.'

Ray winced. His own parents had split up when he was about eight or nine, and he'd always made a brattish point of disliking all of his mother's boyfriends, wanting nothing but his father back at home where, in Ray's childish opinion, he belonged. None of them had been _that _bad though. In the main, they were largely disinterested in the hostile little boy that made dating the attractive divorcee Jacy Barnett so damn difficult. A couple of them had been bullies, and one of them had hit him (he'd probably deserved it in all honesty) once, but just the once. His mother had thrown him out before the blood on her son's newly split lip had had time to dry. He had the feeling he'd never had to endure anything like what Jake had, and he suddenly felt very humble.

'My parents split up when I was young. It was just me and my mum, and whatever guy she had trailing after her at the time. It sounds like she had better taste than yours though.'

'They didn't use you as a punchbag then?'

'One tried once. I've never seen anything as terrifying as when Mum lost her temper at him. Suffice to say he wasn't permitted to hang around for long.'

Jake looked at him, the envy clear in his eyes, and Ray saw what he might have been if it hadn't been for his Mum, for her three jobs and unending support. He made a mental note to call her as soon as he got home.

'If Sally had been like that, things may have turned out differently for me.'

Ray couldn't believe how neutral, how matter of fact Jake was about it all. There wasn't a trace of bitterness in his tone now that the front, the bravado was gone. He knew that if he was in that position, he'd never be so calm about it all. He'd been bitter and angry about his parents' divorce for years, until he had sufficient maturity to see that they were happier, better people apart than they were together. Jake's troubles made his own, and his attitude, seem petty.

'Then, when I was eleven, she picked the biggest, meanest, hardest drinking, hardest hitting bastard out of all of them, and married him. After that, I used to run away all the time. I'd just keep going 'til someone caught me and brought me back again. And then one day, ha, I pretend like I don't know the date.' He laughed dryly, without mirth.

'August 12th. August 12th, last year, I ran away, again, except no-one caught me. I don't know if they didn't bother, or they couldn't find me, or what. But no-one came after me, so I kept running. And here I am.'


	6. Doubt

Disclaimer: As before. Google and Wikipedia gave a helping hand along the way.

Author's Note: Thank you very much for the reviews on the last chapter, glad to know you're enjoying this. As I've said on the updates of my other story, I'm moving house on Friday so will be without internet for I'm guessing a fortnight or so. I'll still be writing I expect, but no updates for a while I'm afraid. And as for the appearance of Anna Del Amico in this chapter; sorry, seemed too good to resist! And it does work, she was an ER paediatrician from Philly. Also, yes, there is a fully Paediatric hospital in Philly, I looked it up (wow, I'm almost doing actual research for this story! Still nothing in it that can't be found on google though!)

Ray knew there was a lot more of the story to come, but he decided to give Jake a break. God knows the poor kid deserved it. He'd been so much more forthcoming than Ray had expected him to be so he gave him a smile and stood up.

Jake looked up at him. 'Where are you going?' There was a trace of fear in his eyes at being left.

'Don't worry Jake. I thought I'd go and get you some pain relief. I think you've earned it.'

Jake looked surprised, and Ray realised that the boy probably wasn't used to people keeping their word; it wouldn't have happened often. It made him even more determined to keep his. 'Really?' Jake was asking.

'Yeah. I'll be two minutes. Less. Okay?'

Jake began to fidget when Ray was gone. He felt an enormous sense of relief to have told someone, anyone, let alone someone who appeared to actually care, the dark story of his short life, but at the same time, he had _never _felt so vulnerable, so open. He'd always been able to present whatever face he wished to the world, but now he felt the layers of pretence to have been peeled away and his emotions lay stripped bare. It wasn't a feeling that he particularly liked.

He wasn't so sure this was a good idea. What was Ray going to do anyway? What could he _really _do about it? Wave a magic wand and wind the clock back… Jake didn't even know how many years he wanted to travel back. Apart from that one brief, idyllic summer of his early childhood when he was with the only decent foster family he had ever had, he couldn't remember a time when he actually considered his life to be worth living. How could one person, even if they had good intentions, do anything to about that?

Before he had chance to do anything, to even think about what he could do, Ray was back. He was still putting his key to the drug lock-up back in his pocket when he twitched the curtain aside to get back to the bed.

'All right, give me an arm of your choice.' Jake stuck out his right arm, and Ray took one look at the trackmarks – not too many, but enough – and the lack of visible veins. Just as well this was an intra-muscular shot, he thought. 'Okay, small scratch coming. There. It should start working soon.'

'Thanks,' Jake mumbled, and under the uncaring exterior there was real gratitude in his voice.

'No problem. Now,' Ray sat back down. 'We've got to decide what we're going to do with you. I'm guessing –' Ray shot Jake a shrewd look, 'that it wouldn't be a great idea for you to go back out there anytime soon.'

Jake shrugged. 'I'd be okay.'

'Really?' Ray sounded doubtful.

Through the bruises, a guilty smile crept onto Jake's face. 'Well, I might have to lie low for a bit…'

'Can I ask why?'

The boy's brown eyes narrowed for a minute, and he seemed to be considering something – Ray thought it was probably him, and the degree to which he could be trusted. He hoped Jake knew he could confide in him. 'No cops?' he asked after a long moment.

'No cops,' Ray promised without hesitation. He was pretty sure whatever trouble Jake was in was drugs related, nothing more serious than that. He needed to be helped, not locked away.

'All right,' Jake sighed. 'I got into drugs soon after I hit the streets. Some dude I was sharing a shop doorway one night with was an addict, and I didn't take a lot of persuasion. It's an easy way out, to forget things for a while. I don't have any money though, so I can't afford to buy. I'm a runner for a couple of dealers down on South Side, and I'm paid in what I want. Last week I pocketed some of the delivery. It didn't go down too well; guess I upset someone.'

'Jake,' Ray admonished.

'Leave it out man. I didn't come here to be preached at.'

'Okay okay. But it's not safe for you to go back out there. I can get you admitted for the night; you probably need observation anyway, but after that, we're going to have to work out something more permanent.'

Jake was looking wary. He had heard this speech before. 'What do you mean by that?' he asked.

'Well, I know you're not going to like this idea, but we have a really good social –'

'_No_,' Jake almost shouted. '_No _social workers.'

His eyes had begun to flick around again, as they had been earlier, and Ray had a feeling he was assessing an escape route again. If he wanted to keep him here, he knew he was going to have to back down, at least for now.

'All right Jake, calm down. No social workers, I get it.' He paused for a minute, thinking. He wasn't sure how to proceed; this was way beyond his capabilities. He knew he should probably discuss it with Wendall Meade, but the minute he so much as breathed a word that he had a homeless fifteen year old with a heroin habit tucked away down in the ER, Jake's entire case would be taken out of his hands and swept far away from him. Wendall was good, there was no doubt about it, but her approach would be too black and white to work here. Jake would be gone the moment everyone's backs were turned, and they wouldn't see him again until he turned up, unrecognisable, with a rearranged face, a ruptured spleen and more than a few broken bones. And that was if he was lucky.

Then he had an idea. He'd been in the care system, albeit in a different state, for years. There must have been someone back in Philly that would know him, be able to help. Of course, there was the risk that in alerting the authorities to Jake's presence in Chicago, he'd end up getting shipped back home to his mum, which probably was far from the optimum outcome, but it was worth a try.

'Jake, was there anyone back in Philly, a social worker or someone, that I could speak to?'

'What for?' Jake looked at him guardedly.

He decided to go for an honest approach. 'Because I am in _way _out of my depth with you here. I want to help you, but you're not really letting me. So I need some advice, and if you won't let me talk to anyone here, I'm going to have to see what I can get elsewhere.' He half hoped that the threat to talk to someone back in Philadelphia about him would be enough to persuade him that talking to a social worker here would be the better option. At least if he ended up in a different state's care system, there would be less chance of him being returned to his mother.

But Jake wasn't as forthcoming as Ray had hoped. 'I didn't really have one case worker. They changed a lot,' he said evasively.

'Come on Jake, you can do better than that. I thought we were doing okay here.'

Jake saw the earnest look in Ray's eyes, a real desire to help – he recognised it because he knew it was an expression he had never seen before – and he wondered if there was actually some good that could come out of this. On the other hand, if he could think of someone for Ray to go and call, he could get the Hell out of here before a social worker was called. And there was bound to be one in the end. There always was.

He gave the question some thought. He hadn't really been lying; he did have a case worker assigned to him, but they had seemed to change regularly, and he couldn't remember a single one of them. He didn't think there was a single person, social worker, teacher, even friend, that he could trust enough to direct Ray to without them calling Sally the moment they got off the phone. No, wait a minute; a thought occurred to him. There was someone who Ray might want to talk to, and they probably wouldn't go bleating to his mother.

'There was a doctor…'

Ray was careful not to show Jake his relief. 'Go on.'

'There was a doctor who patched me up a few times when I went to hospital with broken bones and stuff. She was all right. I don't mind you talking to her if you want to talk to someone.'

'Yes, thank you Jake, I do want to. What was she called?'

'It was at the Children's Hospital. Doctor Del Amico. I saw her a few times, it was after Sally got married cos it was that bastard who was hitting me, so I guess over the last five years.'

'Right. Great.' Ray rose to his feet. 'Well done Jake. I'm going to go now and see if I can contact her, but I'm going to come and check on you in a bit, okay?'

'Sure. Umm, Ray, before you go, could you pour me a glass of water?' Jake indicated to the jug next to the bed. Ray nodded, and did so, leaning forward to pass the drink to him. Just at that moment, there was an explosion of shouting coming from somewhere out in the waiting area, and Ray's attention was drawn away for a moment. Jake saw his opportunity.

Expertly, his hand shot out and dipped into Ray's pocket, extracting the key he had seen him stow in there earlier. There was a niggle of guilt there, but he'd made up his mind. He'd rather get beaten to a pulp than end up in another care home. Those places were Hell.

When Ray got out to the admit desk, whatever had been kicking off had cleared up, and Neela was standing by the box of charts, flicking through them absently. He carefully stepped over the pieces of Jerry's computer, now entirely scattered over the floor – whether as part of a deliberate operation or a hammer attack it was unclear – and crept up behind her. They did their best to keep a professional air about things at work, but they were still in the first flush of a new relationship and sometimes he just couldn't keep his hands off her.

His arms darted out and circled around her narrow waist, pulling her into him. She jumped, then laughed and nestled back into his body. 'Hey,' she said. 'Where've you been? I haven't seen you in ages.'

'With a patient. A homeless kid, kind of needs some help.'

'Is that the one Jerry lost earlier?' Ray looked surprised that she knew. 'Weaver heard you shouting at him. She was furious.'

'With me?' Ray asked incredulously.

Neela, who had turned herself around to face him now, batted him on the arm. 'No, with Jerry you twit. Did you find him?'

'Yeah, I got him back okay. He hadn't got far, he was just down the street. I've managed to talk him back here, but I don't know how long I can get him to stay for. He's a runaway, with a drug problem and a hatred of the care system.'

'You should page Wendall down here. He sounds like a case for her.'

Ray shook his head. 'No way, he'd be gone in an instant if I did. I promised no social workers.'

She glared at him disapprovingly. 'Ray, you shouldn't have done that. You're going to have to call them at some point; if you said you won't, you've lied to him.' Ray's conscience told him Neela was right, but she'd reprimanded him in a patronising voice that made her sound like his superior, not his equal. He didn't like it, and dropped his arms from her waist, stepping away from her.

'He's my patient Neela, leave it.' His words came out a lot colder than he meant them to, and he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. She'd only been giving him a bit of advice – very correct advice – and he'd flattened her. He opened his mouth to apologise but she cut across him.

'Well, that told me,' she snapped, and, grabbing a chart from the box, started to storm off.

'Neela?' He hoped she'd turn.

She stopped, but didn't face him. He decided she was listening. 'I'm handling it, okay? Don't tell Wendall, not yet. Please?'


	7. Disappointment

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Yep, surprise update of this story as well – I've had plenty of writing time; there's only so much unpacking you can do when, nearly a month since they were ordered, the wardrobe and cupboards _still _haven't arrived for the bedroom. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, and hope you enjoy this one. Please let me know what you think of it. I have two more chapters of Back to the Beginning ready and waiting to be posted, but I'm going to make you work for them. More reviews please!!

Ray watched her as she half looked back over her shoulder. Even in a set of shapeless scrubs, she looked beautiful, black curls tumbling down about her shoulders and he thought, again, just how lucky he was that she was his girlfriend. Well, that was if he hadn't just blown it. This was their first row, well, first row as a couple anyway, and he didn't like it one bit.

'Please Neela,' he tried again, a note of desperation in his voice.

He knew he'd made a mistake, but he had to make up for it, redress the balance. And that meant keeping his word to Jake. He'd need to make it up to Neela as well, but that could be done with a bottle of good red wine, expensive chocolates or maybe a bunch of flowers; she loved lilies, and a lot of apologising, at least, he hoped it could.

She continued to look at him over her shoulder. _Please _he mouthed at her. Then, after what seemed like forever, she gave him something that just might have been a nod before she turned and walked away.

He wanted to chase after her and say sorry now, but he stopped himself. He was well experienced in weathering Neela's displeasure, even if their relationship was in a very different capacity these days, and letting her cool off was usually a wise idea. And anyway, he had a job to do.

'Jerry, can you find me the number of the Children's Hospital in Philadelphia please. I need the ER, a Doctor Del Amico.'

'Anna?' the clerk said, sounding surprised. 'What do you want to talk to her for?'

'Huh?' Ray was confused. 'Do you know her?'

'Sure. She did an ER rotation here a few years ago, well, more than a few. She was from Philly, she left to go back there at the end of her rotation. Carter had a bit of a thing for her.'

'Oh, right.' Ray processed, then dismissed, the irrelevant information. 'Well, apparently she's treated my runaway kid before, so I wanted to have a chat to her about him. What's she like, good doctor?'

'Yep, fine doctor. I'll see if I can get her on the line for you.'

Ray had to wait a while. It sounded like, from the one side of the conversation that he was listening to, that she was in a trauma, then when she eventually came on the line, Jerry was chatting for so long Ray had to wrestle the phone from him in the end.

'Jerry, today man. I've got a patient waiting on this call,' he hissed.

'All right, all right,' Jerry said, rolling his eyes. 'Anna, there's a resident here who wants to talk to you about this patient of his. He's getting antsy at me.'

Ray took the phone. 'Doctor Del Amico, I'm Doctor Barnett. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. I've got a boy in here, fifteen year old homeless kid, beaten up pretty badly by a dealer he does some work for, and he's from Philly, says you've treated him before. Name is Jake Ford.'

'Hmm, Jake Ford? I see a lot of kids, I'm sorry, I'm not sure I…'

'Alcoholic mother, stepfather who knocked him around. Frequent flyer with you there over the last few years.' He tried to jog her memory.

'Oh yes, I remember him, haven't seen him for a while, I'd kind of hoped things had gotten better for him.'

'Depends on what you mean by better. From what I can make out, he's swapped an abusive stepfather for a cardboard box and a heroin habit. What did you think of him?'

'Hmm,' she said, considering. 'Tough kid. Broken arms, cracked ribs, mild concussion once or twice. We had a go, but we never could make anything stick on the stepfather; he was a sly one, always managed to talk himself out of trouble. The mother defended him to the hilt and Jake never used to say anything against him. He didn't say much at all actually.'

At last. Finally, Ray felt like he was getting somewhere. 'I want a bit of background information on him really. He threatens to do a runner every time I mention the words social worker and I need to find some way of breaking through to him. He's opened up more than I thought he would, but he's not letting me help him. If he goes back on the streets, he'll be back in the ER in less than twenty four hours, but I can't find an excuse to admit him for longer than a night. I'm keeping him in for observation, but this time, he's not seriously hurt so my hands are tied.'

'Well, I'm not surprised he's anti social work. If he ends up back in the system, they'll probably send him back here. He was in and out of this ER with a whole catalogue of abuse injuries, it's in his best interest to stay away from Philly.' She paused, as if she was thinking about something. 'You know, I'm surprised he told you as much as he did. When I say he didn't say much, I mean sometimes he wouldn't even tell you his name. He's a difficult kid to help, but there's something smart about him, switched on. You must have done something to gain his trust.'

'I lit a cigarette for him,' Ray offered with a wry chuckle.

'Well, that's connecting to him on his own level anyway.'

'I'm not great at this whole psych thing, but I feel that as I'm making headway with it, it would be wrong to just pass him on upstairs.'

'Today was probably the first time anyone has helped him do anything for years.' Ray suspected as much himself. 'Look, I don't know how much help I'm going to be to you,' Anna said. 'It sounds like you've already managed to do more for him than any of us managed here. All I can really offer for you is that he's had a whole life of broken promises and people letting him down, so he's probably pretty damaged. And from what I remember of his family setup here, it wouldn't be in his interests to come back. Sorry, that's all I can tell you.'

'No problem, thanks for taking the time to discuss this.'

'It was a pleasure, I'm just sorry I couldn't have been of more help. Say hi to everyone there for me.'

Ray had to say, he was a little disappointed to not get some flash of inspiration from Doctor Del Amico, but on the other hand, he didn't know what he was expecting. In practical terms, he didn't have any more pointers at all as to how to proceed, but she had left him with an even stronger sense that if there was anyone who could help this kid, it was him. By the sound of it, he'd gotten further than anyone else had, so it would be wrong to throw it away now.

He was just about to go back in to him, when a pair of paramedics burst through the doors. For once in his life, he didn't really want to get involved with an incoming trauma, but it was too late, Luka had spotted him. 'Ray, you're with me.' Jane happened to be walking past as well. 'Jane, if you're done with that hip reduction, join us on this one. GSW to the neck, possible spinal damage.'

The moment they got the gurney into a trauma room, the guy crashed, and Ray knew it was going to be some time before he was going to be able to get to see Jake again. The longer he was away, the greater the chance of him either disappearing, or someone finding him and calling Wendall. There was nothing he could do about it until this guy was stabilised though.

'Luka, his pressure's dropping,' Haleh warned. 'Down to 98 over 70.'

'Someone page Surgery, get them down here. Pump another unit of O-neg into him and order some type specific from the bloodbank. Unless we stop the bleeding soon, he's going to need a lot of it.' Luka barked orders.

'He's in v-fib.'

Luka was trying to investigate the wound through the neck brace that they had had to keep on him. 'Ray, get ready to shock him. Sam, get a round of epi in case we need it.'

'Charging to 280.'

Sam was rummaging in the cupboards. 'We're out of epi in here. Can you spare me if I go and fetch some?'

'Yep, go,' Luka ordered. 'Don't be long.'

'Okay, stand clear,' Ray warned as he brandished the set of paddles.

'We've got him back,' Haleh announced.

Sam came rushing back into the room, bursting through the doors. 'The drug lock-up has been broken into. Security's all over it now. Whoever it was must have had a key because the door hasn't been forced, but they've left the place in a real mess.'

Everyone had turned to look at her. 'Is there anything missing?' Luka asked. With a sinking feeling, Ray knew what the answer was going to be. He was bending over the patient, and realised just then that he couldn't feel the familiar sensation of his key to the lock up in his pocket, digging into his skin.

'Methadone.' Ray answered for her. People stared. 'I'm right, aren't I? It is methadone that's missing?'

'Yes, how do you know that?'

'I think it's one of my patients that has taken it. Fifteen year old homeless heroin user in trouble with his dealer. I thought I was getting through to him, but…' He paused, feeling the disappointment of what had happened hit him sharply. 'Obviously not.'

Luka straightened up. 'Ray, outside with me. Jane, keep going here, I'll send someone in to help you,' he added when he saw the slightly panicked look on the intern's face. He drew Ray aside into an exam room. As he did so, Abby passed the door.

'Abby, can you go into trauma one and help Jane?'

Abby looked a little surprised, but shrugged. 'Sure.'

Luka turned to Ray. His expression was stony, and Ray wondered just how much trouble he was going to be in over this. 'What makes you think it was your patient responsible for this?'

'I just have a feeling. He's already taken off once, and I had to go out and find him. I've been talking to him, and I honestly thought I was doing okay, but every time I leave him, it's like he regresses. I've spoken to an ER Paediatrician back in Philadelphia, where he's from, and she says he's a tough nut to crack.'

'Do you know for sure he's gone again?'

'No, but it's been over half an hour since I was last with him. Last time I left him for five minutes he was gone. I only went off to make a phone call, so I figured that as I was at the desk, I'd see him if he tried to do a runner, but then I went into that trauma, and…'

Ray tried his best not to insinuate that it was Luka's fault for requisitioning him for the trauma, but he was upset and angry, and wanted someone to pin the blame on. Deep down, he knew it was down to him.

If Luka noticed what Ray was implying, he let it lie. 'Well, Sam said that whoever it was had a key. That would rule your kid out, wouldn't it?'

Ray's answer lay in his guilty look. 'My key is missing.'

'What?' Luka thundered. 'Why didn't you report it instantly? Ray, I hope you understand how serious this matter is.'

'Of course I understand,' Ray snapped. 'I only realised it was gone when Sam told us about the break in. It was in my pocket, and I have no idea when or how he got his hands on it, but it's gone.'

Luka sighed. 'All right Ray, calm down. First things first, go and check on this kid, see if he really is gone. It might not be him at all.'

Ray did as he was told. As he was walking down the corridor, he saw Neela coming towards him. He averted his eyes from her. He knew he was in the wrong, but he couldn't bear to her tell him so right now. If Jake was gone, and he was certain he would be, he just wanted to be left alone, he couldn't cope with her patronising self righteousness just now.

He tried to walk on past, but she wasn't going to let him. She reached out and took his hand. 'I've already checked on him Ray. I went as soon as I heard about the break in.' Her tone was softer, a lot more sympathetic than he was expecting it to be. Reluctantly, he met her gaze.

'He wasn't there. I'm really sorry. I wanted him to be there, for you.' She stepped close towards him and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He felt her lips brush his skin softly, and he experienced a rush of love for her in spite of his disappointment in himself. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her.

'It's okay,' he mumbled, even though it wasn't.

'No it's not. You're upset. I'm sorry I was so priggish earlier, I didn't mean to be, I know you were doing what you thought was best.'

'Not good enough though, was it?' he said dejectedly.

This time, with a brief glance to make sure there was no-one around, she kissed his lips.

'You're good enough for me Ray.'


	8. An Unexpected Visitor

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter; so many! That made me rather chuffed. I really appreciate it when you review, I know it can be a pain, but it makes a lot of difference to us writers. (And if anyone would like to review the latest chapter of Back to the Beginning, who knows how soon the next chapter may appear! Yes, I'm mean.) Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter, but as you know, I've been without the internet for some time. Now however, it is fully up and running, so here you go, although as I mentioned on Back to the Beginning, I'm working full time now, so it's anyone's guess when the next update will be, but I'll be doing my best. I do have another chapter for this partially written, so hopefully not too long.

Jake didn't run; that would raise too much suspicion. He walked out, past the big dude on the desk (who was oblivious as when Jake had sneaked past him last time) and out through the sliding doors. Without looking over his shoulder, he made his way down the street, away from the hospital, as casually as he could, hoping that no-one would notice him as he slipped away. Then, as soon as he got around the corner and was out of sight should anyone have come after him, he broke into a fast walk. He tried a jog, but each footstep jarred his aching body, and the pain soon forced him to slow up.

He wanted to get away though, and as fast as he could. Even though he had used the key he'd stolen from Ray, he knew that they were bound to notice the missing drugs before long. He had ended up leaving the place in a bit of a mess; he'd meant to be careful, thinking that if he didn't move anything much, it would take people longer to detect the theft, but then he'd thought he heard someone coming, so he'd panicked a bit, and in the rush, quite a lot of stuff had gotten knocked off the shelves.

Once he was far enough away to feel safe from pursuit, he slipped away from the main street up a narrow, dank alley. Glancing around him, quickly ascertaining he was alone, Jake dipped into his pockets and drew out the contents. As well as his pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and the usual bottom of pocket detritus, he now had four vials of methadone, as well as Ray's wallet. The key he'd left in the hospital. There was no point in keeping it; it wasn't like he was ever going to be allowed back there after that little stunt.

The methadone should be enough to get the people who were after him off his back. He'd only stolen a tiny amount of heroin; barely enough to deserve the beating he'd received, but he knew that if he was going to be able to stay in the city without constantly having to look over his shoulder, he was going to have to make recompense. And this would do just fine. To a real junkie, drugs were drugs.

Jake looked at the methadone. For some reason, he didn't feel remotely tempted. When he'd done the first runner, and he'd been standing on that corner smoking that cigarette, he would have given quite a lot for that nicotine hit to be something stronger. Now he had enough drugs to keep him high for a week, and all they were to him was a safety ticket. It had utterly lost its appeal. Huh, just as well, he reflected.

At the wallet though, he felt a niggle of guilt. It had been in the pocket of Ray's lab coat, which he had left hanging over the chair when, after bringing him back, Ray had left him to get changed back into that awful gown. He had been about to call Ray back in when he saw the bulge lying amongst the white folds. Before he'd really thought about it, the tattered wallet had been out of the doctor's pocket and tucked away in his own.

Now, he opened it up and looked inside. First, he went straight to the important bit. Forty bucks. Well, not bad, but he was kind of hoping for more. He'd thought doctors were meant to be rich. He plucked out the bills and scrunched them up to go in his pocket.

He was just about to chuck the wallet in a trash can when something caught his eye. It was a small photograph, taken in one of those photo booth things, of Ray. His arm was around a girl, well, woman, someone who looked about the same age as him. She had black hair and wide dark eyes and was leaning against Ray's shoulder, a smile on her lips and in her eyes. And she was very, very beautiful. Jake grinned to himself. Typical. He'd known the minute he'd met Ray that he was bound to have some hot girlfriend. This girl here wasn't quite what he'd pictured, but she was definitely stunning.

But what really struck him about the photo was the way the two people in it looked so… happy. So together. Jake felt a strong pang of jealousy. Not over the girl, although he wouldn't say no, but to feel that about someone. He'd never had anyone like that, a girl, a friend, a relative. No one. It looked… good.

He thought again of Ray. He'd been a nice guy. Not boring, irritating nice, but the sort of person that you were kind of glad you'd met. Flicking through the wallet, he wondered what else might be in there, what other things Ray would find important enough to carry around with him. A guitar pick. Receipts for a couple of dinners; a steakhouse and a Thai place by the look of it. Old ticket stubs for a hockey game. There were a few cards, credit cards, driver's license, membership for a video rental store, normal kind of things.

Judging by the contents of his wallet, Jake decided that Ray had a pretty good life. One that he wouldn't have minded for himself.

He tore his eyes away from the wallet and looked again at the drugs he held in his other hand. There was no point standing in an alleyway; who knew how soon he might get jumped? Thrusting everything back into his pockets, ignoring the aches and pains left over from the beating – the Demerol was beginning to wear off – he poked his head out of the alley back onto the street.

It looked safe enough.

Satisfied, Jake set off in the direction of the nearest El station; he had a delivery to make. It wasn't until he was standing on the train that he realised he hadn't cast away the wallet as he'd intended to do. It was back in his pocket as well.

Ray was thankful when the end of his shift finally arrived. Since the drugs had been stolen, it had been a nightmare, made worse by the knowledge, sitting uncomfortably at the back of his mind, that somehow, he had failed Jake. He had tried his best, but it wasn't good enough, and that stung him. He'd always thought of himself to be a good doctor; okay, so he didn't have the encyclopaedic knowledge Neela had imbibed from all those books, and he didn't have the years of experience that Abby had from her nursing, but he liked to think that he measured up. But now he guessed he didn't; when it really mattered, he had failed. And what was worse, he'd been too damn proud to ask for help, even when he sensed helping Jake was beyond his ability, even when Neela had as good as told him so.

After Neela had told him Jake was missing, he'd gone back to Luka, with her, and this time taking her advice, and filled Luka in on the entire story, leaving out nothing. Once he was done, feeling more than a little grateful that it was Luka, nothing if not fair, he was talking to, rather than Susan Lewis, as it would have been a few weeks ago. If it had been Doctor Lewis, he would already be fruitlessly looking for a spot on a different residency programme without the benefit of a reference. At least now he stood a chance. Or so he hoped.

Luka had shaken his head, and given Ray a tight lipped smile. 'Ray…' His tone dripped of disappointment.

'I know, I know.'

'Do you Ray? Do you really? At best today, you've been foolish and naïve, at worst, arrogant and incompetent. I'd like to help you, I honestly would, but quite frankly, I'm not sure you don't deserve to face the consequences of your actions.'

Neela was standing quietly next to him, but at Luka's words, he felt one of her small, soft hands reach out to him and slip inside his own. Once there, she squeezed his fingers in encouragement.

'Doctor Kovac, please.' He thought now might be a good time to revert to polite formality. 'I understand exactly what I did wrong, what I should have done, and what I would do if faced with the same situation again. But just so you know, I didn't do what I did without thinking about it. Jake Ford is a… he's different. Not like the usual kids like that you get in here. He wanted to be helped, I could tell. And I…' Ray gave a little shrug. 'I honestly thought I stood the best chance of doing that.'

There was a minute softening around the tight lines of the older man's mouth. 'What made you think that you were more able than someone from Psych or Social Work? They're specially trained in that area; they have far more experience than you do.'

'I know that. But as I said, every time I even mentioned them, let alone suggested he spoke to them, he became extremely agitated. He had already taken off once, and I thought that the best way of keeping him here, at least in the short term, was to do as he asked.' He paused in his justification, but took Luka's silence as permission to continue.

'I treated him, I talked to him, I listened to him, which is something I don't think anyone has done for a long time, but most of all, I kept a very constant watch on him until I was interrupted, because I knew he was a flight risk. When I spoke to the physician who had treated him before, she reinforced my opinion that I was doing the best thing for him. That was clearly wrong, and believe me, _no-one_,' he emphasised the word heavily, 'is more sorry for that than me.'

Luka gave Ray a long, hard look, and then his expression softened. 'All right Ray. You've explained and justified yourself well enough. As it happens, I probably would have done the same, but you're only an R2, you have _got _to learn to follow protocol before you can make the judgement about whether or not you should.'

Ray let out a huge sigh of relief that he hadn't realised he was holding. 'Thank you Doctor Kovac, thank you.'

'Woah there, ease up. You're still in trouble, and a lot of it. But it's trouble with me, okay. Weaver and Anspaugh already know the break in was with your key; when they hear the whole story, they'll be gunning for you.' Ray's face fell again. 'I'll make sure it doesn't come back on you. Not too heavily anyway. You'll probably still get written up, I can't prevent that, but you won't lose your job. If you're really lucky, you might not even get suspended.'

'I don't know what to say.'

'Try, I'm never going to do something so stupid again. That'll be a good start.'

'Thank you,' Ray said again.

'Just try to keep out of trouble for the rest of your shift okay?' Luka made his way towards the door. 'And Neela, for God's sake keep an eye on him.'

Now, he and Neela were on their way home. Thanks to Luka's intervention, he hadn't been suspended, and Ray knew he owed him a career sized favour. Now though, he wanted to forget about the whole damn mess. They'd stopped for pizza, which Neela had bought by way of apology for the row earlier; she'd even allowed him extra pepperoni instead of anchovies, and now they were walking back to their apartment from the El station.

They were almost home when the question that had been rolling around in his head the whole way back spilled out. 'I messed up today, didn't I?' Ray asked wearily. He was holding the pizza box in one hand, the other arm was wrapped firmly around Neela's waist. She leaned into him further as he spoke.

'No,' she replied stoutly. He gave her an admonishing glare. 'All right. Maybe you did a bit. But you had the best of intentions.'

He sighed. 'Yeah, maybe. I should have known better though. I can't believe I nearly threw away my entire career in medicine today, just because I thought I knew best.'

'Ray, tell me. If what you had done today _had _helped Jake, would it have been worth your career in medicine?'

Ray's brows knitted together for a moment in a frown as he considered the question. 'If it had got him off drugs, off the streets, then yeah, it would have been worth it,' he said eventually.

'Well Ray,' she pulled him to a halt, and reached up to kiss him. 'If you think like that, then I think you're a pretty bloody good doctor anyway.'

'Not reckless and irresponsible?' He smiled against her lips.

'Oh yes, that too. But I love you for it.'

They both froze as they realised what she had just said. It was the first time the L word had been mentioned. She looked up at him, wide eyed and apprehensive.

'You…?' He seemed just as shocked.

'Yes. No. Well, yes,' she stuttered awkwardly. 'Yes, I do. I love you. But it's too soon, I shouldn't have said anything.' He was staring at her. 'I'm sorry, I've scared you.' She began to draw herself out of his embrace when he still didn't speak.

Her movements seemed to galvanise him into action though. With his pizza free hand he pulled her back to his body. 'No-one's ever said that to me before.' There was a sense of wonderment in his voice. 'Not a girl,' he clarified.

'They should have,' she whispered. His hazel eyes were gazing down at her, and she felt herself falling under his spell.

'I've never said it before either,' he admitted quietly. In the old days, he wasn't above telling a few white lies to get a girl into bed, but he'd always deemed that line a step too far. Now, he was kind of glad he'd saved it up.

'You… you don't have to say it if you don't want to.'

'I love you too Neela.'

'You do?' She sounded surprised.

'Very much.'

He dipped his head then, and their lips met in a deep kiss. It started slowly, languorously, but then he gently pressed between her parted lips and his tongue began a gentle exploration of her mouth. Neela responded passionately; she wound her arms around his neck, hands in his hair, pulling him closer. She moaned softly, and the sound sent shivers up his spine.

Ray broke away abruptly. 'Come on, let's get inside.'

He took her hand in his, and together they turned towards their apartment block. That was when they noticed a figure lying on the doorstep.


	9. A lucky escape

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Sorry it's taken a little while to get another chapter of something up, I've just finished my first week at work – not been sacked yet so all good thus far! Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one. This chapter ended up being quite long so I chopped some off to put in the next one; hopefully I'll be able to get that up this weekend too.

Instinctively, they both hurried towards the doorstep, skirting around the great piles of snow that had been shovelled together. It was dark, and the doorstep was poorly illuminated by the streetlamp but somehow, Ray knew who it was going to be long before they were close enough to see the person clearly. Oddly, Neela did too.

'It's the boy, isn't it?'

'I think so,' Ray replied grimly.

'What did you say he was called?'

'Jake. Jake Ford.'

They skidded to a halt and knelt in the grey slush beside him, Ray tossing the pizza box aside, the idea of celebrating their newly announced love completely forgotten. A quick glance at Jake told Ray he hadn't been on the receiving end of another beating, but he was unconscious nonetheless. Neela lifted his head slightly to reach his neck to check his pulse, and the strong whiskey fumes hit them in the cold night air.

'Wow, someone was thirsty tonight,' she commented dryly.

'Yeah, well, he was in a lot of pain. Better he numbed it with alcohol than something stronger,' Ray said springing to Jake's defence.

'Still has a strong pulse. No obvious injuries.' Once she was done with her swift examination, Neela moved so the boy's head was resting gently in her lap. She stroked his forehead in a motherly way without really thinking what she was doing. 'Not better if he's given himself alcohol poisoning,' she replied. 'And what makes you think it was only drink that's made him like this? He left the hospital with a pocket full of methadone.'

Tentatively, Ray reached out and felt the boy's pockets, hoping to find the vials still there. His face told Neela the answer.

'Gone?'

'He might not have taken anything. Check his arms for trackmarks.'

Gently, Neela took Jake's arm and ran up the sleeve of his coat. The light from the nearest lamp post was only sufficient to cast an orange glow over them, not enough to see clearly by, so Ray took his cellphone out of his pocket and used its light to illuminate Jake's arm.

'Nothing that looks new,' Neela said. 'Thank God,' she added quietly.

He wanted to say _I told you so_, but he bit back the petty response. She hadn't said it to him earlier when Jake did a runner, so it wouldn't be fair to throw it at her now. Besides, he wanted Neela's help, and making her mad was not the best way of securing that. Instead, he turned his attention back to Jake.

Ray knelt over him. 'Jake, Jake man, can you hear me?' There was no response, so Ray took hold of his shoulder and gave him a little shake. 'Jake, you gotta try and wake up for me man,' he said loudly.

After a few more minutes of shouting, shaking, and a soft slap around the face, Jake gave a very weak groan, followed soon afterwards by a stronger one. 'Where… where am I?' he croaked. Then he slowly opened his eyes and looked around him. It took a little while for his alcohol blurred vision to focus, but when it did, he was confused by who he saw. 'Ray?'

Ray breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the boy's wide brown eyes staring up at him, and heard his voice, however hoarse it was. Jake was okay, breathing, awake, maybe still a little drunk, but okay. Well, okay enough for now anyway. 'Yeah, it's me. How are you doing Jake?'

With Neela's help, supporting him carefully from behind, Jake started to sit up. He winced in pain as he did so; one hand went to his stomach, still sore from the beating, and he had one helluva headache. 'Not so good, now you come to mention it.' He fought a little to get the words out. He was thinking clearly but his speech was still slightly slurred from all the whiskey.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that there was someone behind him, making the whole painful process of sitting up fractionally easier, and he turned around as far as he was able to see who it was. It was a woman, dark and beautiful despite a worried expression on her face. She looked familiar, but he was sure that he had never met her before. Summoning his strength for the effort, he racked his brains. Then it came back to him. She was the girl from the photo in Ray's wallet. Slowly, it all came flooding back.

After the alley, he'd gone to see the dealer he'd stolen the heroin from. He'd been lucky not to get another kicking on sight, but he'd managed to talk his way out of it. When he offered up the vials of methadone, a smile had spread over the guy's face – Jake didn't even know his name; it was better that way – and he'd invited Jake inside.

"Inside", although he'd never before been asked there, Jake knew would be good. There would be drugs, alcohol, women. It would be warm, dry, and there would be no steel capped boots waiting around the next corner. Not tonight anyway. The dealer had obviously noticed the hospital labels on the vials, and decided that if Jake had access to prescription meds he was worth a bit of investment.

And yet, somehow, Jake wasn't tempted by it. He'd stolen those drugs to buy his safety, not as currency to get more, and although the alcohol and women wouldn't be unwelcome, he knew that it wouldn't stop there. Tonight might be good, but after tonight, there would be suggestions, then requests, then demands, and refusal would not be an option. That was the way it worked, and he didn't want to be a part of it.

So he'd shaken his head, stepped back into the shadows.

'Are you refusing my hospitality?' The inviting note disappeared from the voice instantaneously; replaced by hardness.

'I came here tonight to pay off my debt sir. That's all. I'm sorry for double crossing you, and you won't be hearing from me again.'

'Are you sure about that Jake? I've got a lot of what you want. And I think you and I could do some good business together.'

'No sir. I'm done with this.' And he was. The drugs. The danger. He didn't know why, but it held absolutely no attraction for him all of a sudden. There was a voice in his head that was nagging at him, and at the back of his mind, he knew whose voice it was, that was telling him that he was worth more than this. That this was not the only way.

'Your choice Jake.'

After that, Jake had made a hasty retreat, stunned that he'd gotten away with it. He'd actually broken free of it. He was going to be able to walk down the street without having to look over his shoulder, which he'd always had to do, even before the beating. But… walking down the street was still just about the only thing he was going to be able to do.

He couldn't go back to the hospital, not after stealing the drugs. He hoped Ray hadn't got into trouble; it had been his key after all. There wasn't anywhere else though. He didn't have any friends in Chicago, he guessed there must be hostels, places that people like him could go, but he didn't know where any of them were.

So he'd just wandered for a while. He'd have to find a doorway or a bench or something, but it was cold, and he'd stay warmer if he walked. After an indeterminate number of blocks – he didn't know how many – he noticed he was walking past a liquor store. He stood in front of it for a minute and just looked. He wasn't sure if getting off his face on booze was exactly fitting in with his recent turning over a new leaf decision; alcohol was just another drug, after all, wasn't it? But he had to have something to keep him warm tonight. And, for once, he could afford to pay for something half decent.

He went in; they were unlikely to ask for ID in this part of town, and sure enough, the guy behind the counter hadn't cared, he'd barely taken his eyes off the little screen of the miniature television and the hockey match he was engrossed in.

As he plunged his hand into his pocket for some money to pay for the bottle of whiskey he'd chosen, he remembered that not only did he have Ray's money, the forty bucks, but his wallet as well. He got out of the shop and down the street before he took the piece of battered leather out. He retreated into a shop doorway and unscrewed the cap of the bottle, taking a good slug, then, grimacing at the burn of the whiskey as it ran down his throat, opened the wallet.

Once again, he flicked through it, thinking of the man who owned it. He looked at the photograph again, those hazel eyes, a relaxed smile, looking back at him. Well, Ray probably hated him now, after that stunt with the drug cabinet place. But then… no-one else had ever made the effort before today, before Ray.

Perhaps…

No. He drank more whiskey, this time grimacing less. Why should Ray want to help him after he had betrayed him?

But then… it was worth a try, wasn't it? He had Ray's driver's license; it had his address on it, he knew where to go.

More whiskey, as he made up his mind.

He wasn't sure how he would handle it if he went, and Ray threw him out, wouldn't even see him. If he didn't go, there would always be that hope that if he had gone, he would have been welcome with open arms. But if things didn't go how he hoped, well, Ray would just be one more of the legions of people who had lied to him, given him false hope, and Jake didn't want him to become that.

He raised the bottle to his lips once more, then, on legs that were now slightly unsteady, he stood up. He squinted through blurred eyes at the address on the license. It was on the other side of town, it would take a good hour or so to walk there.

Never mind, he remembered thinking, at least he had a bottle of whiskey to drink on the way. And then after that… nothing.

'All right Jake, let's get you inside. This is Neela by the way, my girlfriend. She's a doctor at County as well.' Neela smiled down at Jake, who craned his neck around to look at her again. When she smiled, he nodded in acknowledgement and after a moment's pause, smiled back. With Neela's help, Ray levered Jake to his feet. The boy was barely able to stand, and he wasn't a small kid, it took both of them to keep him steady.

'Look, no, it's fine,' he grunted. 'I'll just…'

'You'll just nothing,' Neela said in her most no-nonsense voice. Not being used to it, Jake's face betrayed his apprehension, and Ray found himself smiling discreetly. 'You're too drunk to stand. You're going to come upstairs and sober up before you do anything else.'

'I wouldn't argue with her if I was you Jake,' Ray teased. 'Her bite's just as bad as her bark. Believe me, I know.'

'Thank you for that Ray,' Neela said primly. 'Now, come on. It's freezing out here.'

Just the day for the elevator to be out of order; it took a long time to get Jake up the stairs. Still weak from the beating, he let out a not so occasional grunt of pain, and all three of them were panting by the time they reached the correct floor.

When Jake realised the other two were breathing almost as heavily as he was, he shot them a brief, apologetic look. 'Sorry.' Ray waved away his words.

While Ray continued to support Jake, Neela delved into her bag and pulled out a jangling set of keys. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open, and then turned back to the other two and resumed her position on Jake's other side to help him in.

They got him as far as the sofa and let him down, Neela none too gently. She disappeared off to the kitchen, and soon returned with a glass of water and in the background, Ray heard the kettle boiling for coffee. Neela thrust the water into Jake's hands and watched him, hands on hips, as he drank it. Her eyes were narrow and as she was looking at Jake, Ray could tell she was deep in thought.

He couldn't work out what was going through her mind though. He hoped she wasn't going to explode; Jake was far too fragile for that yet, but he wouldn't put it past her. She'd seen how upset he'd been earlier and knowing her, she'd be the first to jump to his defence.

Too late. Neela was speaking.

'Jake, how did you find us? Did Ray give you the address?' You would have to know her well to notice, but there was a hint of ice in her voice, a determination to get an answer. Immediately, Ray tried to head her off.

'Not now Neela, it doesn't matter.'

'I think it does. Jake?'

'I…'

'Neela,' Ray tried again. 'Listen, the kettle's boiled. How about getting Jake some black coffee? I wouldn't mind one as well while you're there.'

'Make your own coffee,' she snapped, not taking her eyes off Jake. 'Jake, how did you find us?'

Ray sighed in frustration, there was no arguing with Neela when she was like this. To try to take the edge of her questioning though, he turned to Jake, even though he already knew the answer. He hadn't been game to mention his missing wallet after the drugs fiasco. 'Jake, man, how _did _you find me?' he asked in a gentle, curious tone in sharp contrast to Neela's.

'I took your wallet Ray. I'm sorry, you left it right there in your white coat and I guess I just… I'm sorry.'

Ray put a reassuring hand on Jake's shoulder. 'Hey, don't worry about it man. It's not a problem. I'm… I'm really glad that you came to find me Jake.'


	10. Conflict

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: I feel like I'm always saying it, but I mean it so I'm going to carry on; thank you for taking the time to review, it's great to hear what you think of the story. Sorry it's taken me so long to update, work and life and all has been getting in the way rather. This one is kind of my favourite at the moment, so I guess it's getting a little more than it's share of attention, but I will try to get back to Back to the Beginning soon.

Jake felt Ray's hand resting firmly on his shoulder, and tried to smile. 'Well, I… I didn't have anyplace else to…' he shrugged. He was sort of pleased that he didn't have anyone else to turn to, he liked this guy, almost even trusted him. He felt like with Ray's help, things might end up… okay. It was certainly a feeling he hadn't had in a while.

Then Neela cut across them with a loud snort. Now she knew Jake was all right and not in any danger; there was no question of him having overdosed or beaten up again, she felt a rush of anger against the boy. Ray had tried and tried to help him, and for what? He'd betrayed Ray at the very first opportunity in return for another fix. In her anger, she glossed over the fact that Jake hadn't actually used the drugs he'd taken. And now he was back, goodness only knows what trouble he was going to cause this time.

'Huh, no wonder you didn't have anyplace else to go,' she retorted. 'You've stolen prescription medicines from a hospital, not to mention the wallet of the doctor who was bloody treating you. Forgive me, but I can see why your friend list is a little short right now.'

Her harsh words hit Jake with all the stinging force of an unexpected slap. The truth of what she had said settled like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach and his face crumpled. She was so right, why did he think that anyone would be willing to help him after what'd he'd done? He began wishing that he had never come here; just wandered in the darkness, alone and friendless, just as he deserved to be. Ray, noticing the change, squeezed his shoulder a little harder. 'Neela, don't do this now. It doesn't matter.' He kept his voice quiet and calm; it would do no good if he was drawn into an argument over this.

'I'm sorry, but I think it does. What he did today almost cost you your job Ray.'

On the sofa, Jake opened his mouth to interrupt, to say that he hadn't meant for it to be like that, that Ray had been the first person in forever to actually _care _and that he would never intentionally betray him, but all that he wanted to say got lost in the storm of Neela's anger.

'And now he says he stole your bloody wallet as well. Were you actually going to tell me that, or did you think that the methadone would be enough?' Her voice was rising with her anger.

'I don't see why you're so angry,' Ray said, although that wasn't entirely true – he did understand to an extent. If this was all happening the other way round, any homeless junkie who was taking advantage of Neela's good nature would be out of their ear fast enough to make their head spin more than any drugs.

But Jake was… was he different? Ray looked down at him for a moment, wondering. He was pale faced, one eyelid still swollen and purple and looked like the scared kid he was. Yeah, he was different. 'Look, Jake's in trouble Neela. Remember that news story this morning, and you said –'

'That's the damn television Ray, this is _real life. _Next you'll be wanting him to stay here'

Her complete dismissal of his thoughts before they had even fully formed in his mind frustrated and irritated him. 'In _real life_, kids like Jake need help. _I_ want to help him. And yeah, I do want him to stay here. Where the Hell else is he going to go?'

'Oh, I don't know, back to the hospital? A care home? Down to the local police station?'

Ray had sprung up off the sofa next to Jake now, and he and Neela were facing each other across the room. Her eyes were flashing, and he found his own temper being stretched to breaking. Earlier, she had been so kind, so supportive, when Jake had left. He had been dreading her reaction – as sure of her anger then as he was surprised by it now, but she had said all the right things, eased the pain. Only a few minutes ago, they had been standing on a snowy sidewalk declaring their love for each other. Why couldn't she be like that now?

'The police… Jesus Neela. Don't even say that.'

'Why not? You're not a miracle worker. I think today proved _that._' The words were out before she could stop them, and the expression of immense hurt that passed over his face made her feel instantly guilty. She began to take a step towards him but the hurt swiftly transformed and she was beaten back by the angry snarl that replaced it.

'Wow, don't hold back, tell me what you _really _think!' His voice was snide, sarcastic.

Neela sensed she'd gone too far – she didn't think she had ever heard sarcasm in his tone, but somehow she couldn't pull it all back. There was some irrational part of her that she didn't understand that made her push on. 'What, Ray? You tried your best, but some people just don't want to be helped.'

Jake withdrew back into the sofa, cowering from the argument as best he could. He had thought somehow that he would be safe here, yet this row was every bit the damaging whirlwind that had driven him from home in the first place. As far as Neela's assertion that he didn't want to be helped went; he knew it wasn't true, but nor did he feel he had any right to ask for help. He hadn't done anything to earn it, and why would anyone _want _to help him?

Yet Ray was defending him.

'He's here, isn't he? Doesn't that say something?'

'Yeah, whatever was in your wallet wasn't enough!'

Jake sank further and further back into the corner of the sofa with every shouted word. This wasn't the couple in the photograph in Ray's wallet; it was two different people entirely, and he had a horrible feeling that it was all down to him. Neela was right, he shouldn't have come here. He tried to get to his feet, but he couldn't summon the effort.

Ray heard his groan. 'Jake, stay there,' he said over his shoulder before facing up to Neela again. There was half a thought at the back of his mind that she looked unbelievably sexy when she was this angry, eyes full of fire and flicking her raven black her over her shoulder agitatedly, but he buried it. He didn't want to forgive her over this.

'That's uncalled for. What _is_ your problem? Just because the poor kid has been chucked into care and driven out of his home… Does he threaten your nice, ordered middle class little world? Too much of an inconvenience for you? Does it _scare _you to have a junkie in the apartment? What do you think he's going to do?'

'Middle class? An inconvenience? Is that really how you perceive me Ray? Do you _honestly _think that I am that narrow minded, that uncaring… that…' She was so enraged she lost all eloquence, her words turning into incomprehensible sputters.

'This isn't about you!'

'No, you're right, it's not. It's about you and your bloody recklessness. It's one thing after another with you; are you never going to learn?'

'Learn what? To stop caring? No thanks, I might end up like you,' he retorted.

'Oh, really nice Ray. Cheers for that. All I'm doing is trying to warn you that however much you might want to help, you're going about it the wrong way. We should take him back to the hospital, get him into rehab, not throw open our home to him. What do you want to do – let him have his pick of the valuables, or shall we just go get our chequebooks now?'

'Well, thank you for your _support _with this Neela,' he snarled.

For a long moment, she stared at him, her eyes boring into his soul. He didn't know what she saw there though, because she spun on her heel and left the room. The door slammed shut very hard.

Once she was gone, Ray stood staring after her for some time. He wanted to feel upset at the row; they had had some bad altercations when they were living together simply as roommates, but nothing that came remotely close to the sheer anger that had left him even now with still shaking hands. It wasn't until he heard Jake shift slightly in his seat that he was drawn from his reverie.

He turned to look at the boy, staring up at him paler than before, and one eye as wide as a saucer, the other empurpled. Sighing, Ray sat next to him. 'I'm sorry you had to see that. I don't know what got into her.'

Jake shook his head, refused to meet Ray's gaze. 'She was right though, I'm not worth the effort. Whenever anything good happens, I always screw it up.'

'I'm sure that's not true.'

'Is it right that you nearly lost your job today because of what I did?'

Ray shrugged. 'She made it sound worse than it was,' he lied.

At that, Jake gave the briefest flicker of a smile. 'I bet she didn't,' he said wryly, and Ray acknowledged him with a tiny nod.

A short silence fell between them, and Ray could hear Neela banging and crashing away in her bedroom. She usually tidied or cleaned when she was angry; it was a habit of hers. It was also his cue to go to her, apologise, smooth things over. Not tonight though.

'How are you feeling now Jake?' he asked gently instead.

'Tired. Rough. Sort of like I got beaten up and drank a bottle of whiskey and ended up unconscious.' They both laughed.

'Well, there could be a reason for that.' Ray looked quickly at the clock. 'Look, it's getting late. I don't really know what's going to happen tomorrow, I've had a crap day and I can't think about it now. I think we all need to sleep.' Unconsciously, he included Neela in that statement. She'd gotten carried away, and he was still angry and hurt, but he knew the fault wasn't entirely hers.

'I… I can still stay here tonight?' Jake sounded surprised.

'Why, did you have other plans?'

'No, of course not, but I thought that after… I don't want to cause any trouble for you, with you and…'

'Neela,' Ray supplied, when he could see that the foreign name had escaped Jake's tired memory. 'Don't worry about her,' he said firmly.

'But that was a pretty horrible argument, and it was about me. I don't want you and Neela to… over me. That would just… That wasn't why I came here.'

'I know it wasn't, don't worry. But you're here now, and you're not going anywhere, not tonight.'

Ray could see that Jake was in need of further reassurance and opened his mouth to say something when they heard a door opening. Instinctively, Ray turned his head towards the sound. Together, they listened in silence as she made her way from the bedroom to the bathroom, Ray noticing her footsteps were a little heavier than usual, but at least she didn't slam the door quite as hard this time.

Once she was finished, and back in her bedroom again, Ray stood up and indicated towards the door. 'All right Jake, bathroom's second on the left. Use my stuff. Give me a shout when you're done and I'll show you where my room is.'

'Your room? I don't mind sleeping on the couch; I don't want to take your bed.'

'It's fine. I don't usually sleep in there anyway. And if she's really mad, a night on the sofa won't kill me.'

He waited until he heard Jake close the bathroom door and turn the key in the lock then crept into his room as quietly as he could. He laid out an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt that Jake could use as pajamas and glanced around the room, kicking a small pile of dirty laundry under the bed.

Then, quickly, he gathered up a few things he had left lying around like his ipod, some signed LPs he had that might be valuable, the watch his father had given him for his graduation and took them through to Neela's room. It wasn't that he suspected Jake would take them, or even that he would be tempted really – Ray was pretty sure that he was past that now – but… he didn't know why he did it. Perhaps some way of proving, to himself as much as to Neela, that he wasn't as stupid or as blind as he appeared. Or maybe it was just to be on the safe side; there was no point in throwing temptation in Jake's path, not now he had come far enough to actually ask for help. He didn't know, but whatever the reason, he felt it would be a good idea.

He wasn't sure how good an idea it was to try to enter Neela's room though. The door was ajar and very slowly he pushed it open. Luckily, she wasn't in there; he cocked his head and heard her in the kitchen, still crashing about, presumably foraging for some food in lieu of the forgotten pizza.

Feeling slightly like he was intruding, even though they as good as shared this room now, Ray quickly stowed the items in the top drawer of the dressing table, poking aside Neela's make-up bag and some jewellery boxes to make room, adding his cellphone and now empty wallet. Then he went back out to Jake.

'All right? That's my room there. If there's anything you need, don't be afraid to ask okay?' Ray looked at Jake, and judged that he could be dying and be too scared to say anything after the earlier altercation. 'I mean it, Neela might be… forthright, but I didn't mean the things I said, about her not caring. She's one of the most caring people I know, and she's been worried about you ever since you went missing. So don't worry about asking if you need anything. And if you're not feeling too good, tell us right away. Remember, you were meant to be staying in the hospital for observation tonight, so I should be keeping a close eye on you. Understood?'

Jake nodded.

'Okay. Night then.'

'Night Ray.' Jake turned towards the door, opened it, then paused. 'Umm… thanks, yeah? For everything.'


	11. Bedtime

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: I'm sorry about the long waits you have been having lately between my updates. All I can do is offer my humble apologies and ask you to bear with me. Writing time is severely limited at the moment, so I hope this is worth the wait. I'm not too happy with this chapter, but I thought it was _high _time I updated so I'm afraid you will have to make do. And thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter; they are even more appreciated given that my shockingly poor rate of updates has done nothing to deserve them.

Neela stormed to her bedroom mainly because she didn't trust herself not to say something even more terrible. She knew what she had said, no, screamed at Ray had been hurtful, uncalled for, but her rage seemed to have completely hijacked her voice and it all came tumbling out. It was almost as if she hadn't really been saying those things, or Ray, and that it was two strangers who had been standing there arguing as if they hated each other.

In truth, she was furious at him for inviting Jake into their home. Work was always busy and stressful, and although she enjoyed it, the apartment, her home with Ray, was her haven, somewhere she could forget it all and be safe from it. She'd thought Ray saw it the same way, and it did sort of hurt, she had to admit, to find out in such a hostile way that that wasn't the case at all. It almost felt as if he was just dismissing everything they had by bringing Jake into their private little world.

How dare he? she mused as she banged and crashed around, tidying things up. Returning a couple of jumpers to the wardrobe, she slammed the door shut, fantasizing for a moment that Ray's head was in it. It would serve him bloody right, and you never know, it might just knock a bit of sense into him at the same time. How dare he let that boy _invade _their paradise?

He was a drunken junkie, and goodness knows who could be coming after him. After all, the boy had come into the ER having been beaten up, and now he was drunk. Anyone could have followed him here; there could be half a dozen thugs with baseball bats coming up the stairs right now.

Of course, she knew that she was being a little melodramatic. Although she'd expressed, very vocally, her skepticism, it was obvious Jake was an extremely troubled kid but one who might just have a chance with a bit of care and attention, and she was impressed with the person that Ray had become that he was willing to go out on a limb to help him. It was just… the way he had gone about it.

He hadn't consulted her, he'd been completely absorbed in Jake. Two minutes before, she'd told him that she loved him, only to be absolutely sidelined. Then, with a brief chuckle, a thought hit her. Was she jealous? Jealous of some poor messed up kid that for some reason Ray had felt the need to reach out to? God, if she was, that was utterly pathetic.

But whatever the reasons behind her outburst, she was still stunned at how _hurtful _Ray had been. She was far from innocent herself, she knew that, but at least what she had been saying had been related to Jake, to the case; he had just… It was almost as if he had picked his brains for the nastiest, most spiteful insults he could, then thrown them at her, uncaring of the wounds they would cause. Ray had many facets to his character, some she knew she was the only one privileged enough to see, but she had never thought vindictiveness was one of them.

She sighed heavily and sat down on the bed. She could physically feel all the thoughts spinning around in her head, tying themselves in knots and winding tighter and tighter. She just needed to calm down, to think rationally. It would be better in the morning; both her and Ray's tempers were frayed from a long day, a good sleep would do them good. Perhaps then they would be able to talk like the adults they were, rather than these horrible arguments. And better still, in the morning, they could get rid of Jake. She wasn't going to turn him out onto the streets at night, she wasn't _that _angry anymore, but, despite the row, she remained certain that Jake needed something beyond that which Ray was capable of offering, and so he had to go.

She had waited for what seemed like forever for Ray, watching him, hearing him, with countless nameless girls, just waiting in vain for him to notice that she existed, then all of a sudden one afternoon, out of the blue, she was shouting at him one minute, and then the next one he was kissing her, and from then on there had been no looking back for either of them. And now this kid somehow seemed, in the space of one day, to have insinuated himself into their lives and wrecked it all. Well, she wasn't going to let him. She decided, suddenly, in that moment, that she loved Ray too much to allow that to happen.

Well, she wasn't going to talk to him right now. She hadn't been the only one who was angry at the other's reaction, no doubt Ray needed to calm down and think things through as well. Besides, he would be busy with Jake for a while. He would need to be watched for a while; he'd been beaten up, and had an absolute skinful of whiskey, and he was only fifteen after all.

Instead, she got up and went through to the bathroom. As she walked down the hall, she listened out to see if Ray and Jake were talking, but things seemed to have gone quiet for a moment. They were probably waiting to see if she was going to come back to the lounge for round two.

Brushing her teeth, Neela spat the toothpaste into the sink and stared up at herself in the mirror. She looked pale in the fluorescent light, her eyes wide and lines of anguish still on her face. Just meeting her own dark gaze, she felt her bottom lip begin to tremble and her eyes pricked with tears. Where had it all gone wrong? _How _had it all gone wrong?

It worried her that the change in both of them had been so instantaneous, so sudden. If one patient could do that to them, what was going to happen when it was something that was between them, directly affected them? She didn't know whether every time they had an argument about something, she was going to be able to cope with hearing themselves say those things.

She was overreacting again, letting her thoughts and emotions spiral out of control. She really did need to sleep. At some point, maybe in the morning, she was going to have to make it up to Ray. He was too proud and too hurt to make the first move, so she knew if was going to have to be her. She didn't know how though. Knowing him and his righteous anger he would be giving her the cold shoulder for ages, and he was impossible to talk to when he was like that.

She thought about going out there now, sitting down and apologising. She could hold his hand and stroke his cheek, and say that she was sorry, beg him to forgive her. But she was reluctant to do so in front of Jake. She wanted to steer things away from him, get back something of the closeness she and Ray had been sharing recently. She was also afraid of sparking the same venomous response from Ray she'd received earlier. That wouldn't help anyone.

In the end, Neela retreated back to the bedroom. It seemed safer for the moment. She looked around, wondering what to do. It was still pretty early to be going to bed; normally she and Ray would be going out to catch a movie or some dinner, or maybe an evening in with a dvd and a takeaway, but that was hardly going to be on the cards tonight. Even if they hadn't fallen out, Ray would want to be watching over Jake anyway.

Oh sod it, Neela thought suddenly, I refuse to be trapped in my own bloody bedroom simply because of a row. She was hungry, so she tramped through to the kitchen for a forage. That pizza, now lying in the snow outside, wouldn't have gone amiss now.

She set off for the kitchen, determined to ignore Ray and Jake for the time being. The lounge was quiet though, and by the sound of it they were in Ray's room, or maybe the bathroom. It was difficult to tell and right now, she didn't care. Rummaging through the cupboards, she soon found a box of Ray's cereal and she looked at it thoughtfully. As far as she was usually concerned, it was sugar coated crap, but she was starving and you never knew, Ray adored the stuff; it might not be _so _bad. She tipped some into a bowl, and poured on some milk, sniffing the carton first. Neither she nor Ray were born homemakers and she had learnt the hard way that it was better to check the milk before using it. Then she poked at it with a spoon. Well, here goes nothing, she thought.

As she ate – hmm, not as awful as she'd expected – she thought about what she might say to Ray. It sounded like he had sent Jake to sleep in his room, but she hoped that wouldn't mean Ray would sleep on the couch. Despite her anger, she was touched that Ray obviously cared so much about the boy. He'd really put himself on the line today, and Neela was proud of him for it.

There, that was it, that was what she had to say to him. She threw the bowl, cereal and all, into the sink (no great loss) and almost ran to her bedroom.

Ray was already in bed by the time Neela returned from the kitchen. He'd left the bedside lamp on, but turned the main light off, so the room was lit only with a soft, golden glow. She stood before her dresser, watching the reflection of Ray's prone form carefully while she took her jewelry off. As she stowed it in the correct boxes, she saw lying in the drawer she just opened a handful of items that didn't belong there. Ray's wallet, his ipod, cellphone a couple of signed things he had from people she hadn't heard of. He didn't have many valuables, but they all seemed to be here.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Ray wasn't going into this quite as blindly as she had thought he was. She had calmed down during the time she had spent in the bathroom, and now, seeing evidence that he was actually thinking this through, she felt reassured. Quietly, she shut the drawer, and slipped out of her clothes, pulling one of Ray's t-shirts over her head instead. She crawled under the covers.

He was lying on the far side of the bed with his back to her. She flicked off the lamp and shuffled closer to him, trying not to let herself be put off by the pale skin of his bare back, making him look forbidding and unapproachable. She reached out and put a small hand on his shoulder, shuddering a little as she felt his muscles, taut and angry.

'Ray…'

He didn't answer, but she could tell he was still awake.

'Ray, don't get me wrong, I think you're crazy. I really don't think this kid wants to be helped…'

He gave the first sign that he had been listening to her by shrugging his shoulder, trying to remove her hand, but she kept it there determinedly. She leant in to him, resting her chin on his neck so he could feel her hot breath against his skin. Then she lowered her voice, and whispered to him softly, 'But I love it that you want to try. And if there's anything you want me to do, anything I can help you with, you tell me, and I'll do it.'

The muscles under her hand began to unknot themselves a little.

'I'm right beside you Ray. I'm here, for you, with you.'

Very slowly, he rolled over to look at her. He gazed at her silently for a while, as if he was assessing how deeply she meant what she had said. 'He's a good kid Neela.'

'I hope so.'


	12. Morning

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the reviews on the last chapter; as fantastic to hear your views as always. Particular thanks to those people who have given this story a try against their initial judgement – I know it's different from many of the Ray and Neela stories on here, but that's what has made it so interesting to write, and I hope read also.

When Jake woke the following morning, he felt his stomach turn over with a small flicker of panic. He opened his eyes to be met with entirely unfamiliar surroundings. How did he get here? And where the Hell was "here"?

Trying to work it out, he looked around him, hoping for a flash of recognition. Well, for starters, he was in a bed – it had been a while since he had been in one of those, and in a room he didn't recognise at all. There was a small lamp by the side of the bed and he reached out to turn it on, the grey light of morning that was seeping under the curtains insufficient to illuminate the room.

There, that was better, now at least he could see the room he was in. There was a liberal scattering of clothes over quite a lot of the floor, a couple of slightly dog eared band posters tacked to the back of the door and the wardrobe, and a big window on the far side of the room that had a pair of fairly old curtains that didn't quite reach the sill beneath so he could see a few pages of sheet music lying there in a messy pile. Looking out of the window under the curtain, he could see that it was snowing again.

All very interesting, but it didn't help him in the slightest in trying to figure out his whereabouts.

Slowly he stretched and sat up, wincing a little at the stiffness of his muscles across his ribs. The pain he had been in yesterday seemed to have lessened, at least to a degree, for which he was thankful. He pulled back the duvet, lifted up the t-shirt he was wearing, and inspected his bruising. Man, that bootprint looked grim. There were some other marks as well, none as big or defined as the boot but all a deep puce colour that would have made him feel kinda sick if they had been on someone else. Upon moving his head, he discovered he had a pounding headache as well, but if he'd managed to wriggle out of all that he'd been through over the last couple of days with nothing worse than a hangover, then he wasn't going to complain. He thought for a second of the sweet relief he could get from a handful of painkillers but the idea didn't have any real appeal. Why was that?

Gradually, the fractured pieces of memories came back to him, and with some effort he began to fit the jigsaw together. He remembered taking the drugs down to the dealer and then following the address on the wallet across town and, vaguely, waking up to see Ray and Neela then, later, the argument. He shuddered with guilt at that. The row, the shouted words and angry jibes had been horrible, and he wished fervently that it hadn't been like that, that his presence hadn't caused them to be like that, but it had. It had also brought back deep memories that since he had left Philly he had kept determinedly buried in the far recesses of his mind of rows and arguments and fights that made is throat tighten in fear. The logical part of his brain knew the heated exchange between Ray and Neela hadn't been like that, but still as he'd sunk back into the sofa, further away from the fight, he'd been conscious of curling up defensively, trying to protect himself.

Whatever though, it had been his fault, it was his presence there that they had been arguing about and he was overcome with a strong compulsion to apologise.

He was just about to get out of bed to go and find Ray when the bedroom door creaked open. Immediately, a very, very welcome smell of pancakes wafted through, which was followed by a tray then, finally, Ray.

'Morning Jake,' he said brightly, with all the perkiness of a natural morning person, something Jake was not.

'Uh, morning,' Jake replied slightly apprehensively. He scanned Ray's face for any signs of the tension of the previous night but he seemed relaxed. There was a smile in his eyes and there was some old school rock music playing from somewhere else in the apartment. Ray picked his way over the accumulated detritus on the floor and set the tray down on the bed across Jake's knees with a little flourish.

'Here you go. Breakfast.'

'Thanks.' Jake wanted to say more, but he suddenly realised that he was ravenously hungry and his mouth was already watering at the prospect of the pancakes. He fell upon the mug of tea and drank thirstily.

'How are you feeling today?' Ray leaned lazily against the wall, adopting a relaxed pose.

'Not too bad,' Jake mumbled around a mouthful of pancake, embarrassed at having to speak with a mouth full. 'Hungover, still a bit sore.' He swallowed the food, shifted in the bed awkwardly. 'Umm, Ray, I'm sorry I came here last night. I know I shouldn't have…'

He'd barely got the sentence out before Ray cut him off. 'Jake, stop right there. You did the right thing coming to me, you needed a bed for the night, and medical help. You still do in fact, I have a shift starting in an hour and you're coming with me. You need to be checked out.'

He didn't like the idea of going back to the hospital again one little bit, but that wasn't the issue right then. He had something he was determined to get out. 'I mean about you and Neela. The things you said… I caused that.'

The earnest look on Ray's face faded as the corners of his lips creased upwards into a smile. 'Don't worry about me and Neela. Takes more than a homeless kid and a vicious row to rock us.' Then he chuckled. 'Seriously, me and Neela will be okay, I'm worried about you.' There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke; he'd forgotten that was the thing about falling out – there was always the making up to come afterwards. And with the confession of love earlier in the evening to go back to, what a making up it had been.

Jake sensed that Ray was brushing away his words of apology, but he tried again, this time with gratitude instead. 'I'm all right Ray, thanks to you. I…' He put down the knife and fork, and his eyes became serious. 'I know I've been saying it over and over, but I want you to know, nobody's _ever _helped me like you have. More than that, you've made me feel like I'm actually worth something.'

'That's because you are Jake.' The words were said simply, without the slightest doubt behind them.

Jake shrugged his shoulders dismissively. 'Easy to say, but it's just words without actions. I turned up on your doorstep yesterday and you took me in, no questions asked. You knew the kind of people I'm in with and what trouble I was in; I could have had anyone coming after me, but you still took me in.'

'I…' Ray didn't know what to say to the kid. Put it like that, and it did make him sound like a bit of a hero. Or a damn idiot, one or the other. He knew which Neela would say he was. Except she'd call him a "bloody" idiot, and say it in that cute British accent and… And Jake was speaking again. Get your mind back on the matter in hand Barnett, Ray told himself sternly.

'I used the methadone I took to pay off my debt. When I gave it to the guy, he asked me inside, wanted to do business with me.' Jake paused, and Ray waited, seeing what came next. 'And I… I said no. I don't know why, but I did. I just suddenly thought that I didn't want to be a part of whatever was going on inside that apartment. So I walked away.'

Ray gently put a hand on Jake's shoulder, squeezed it. 'Well done man. I can't begin to imagine how much courage that took.'

Jake shrugged again, although carefully, so as not to make it seem as if he wanted to dislodge Ray's hand. In fact, he kind of liked the comfort. It made him feel as if Ray cared. Not that he needed additional evidence of that; everything he had done for him was more than enough.

He was spared from having to give an answer though by the creaking of the bedroom door once again as it opened. Giving the mess on the floor just one, very brief, look of disdain, Neela picked her way over to the bed. Jake was apprehensive but as she perched on the edge of the duvet cover and smiled if not warmly, at least genuinely, he thought she looked more like the beautiful, happy girl in the picture in the wallet.

'Uhh, Neela, I was apologising to Ray, I wanted to say sorry to you too.'

'That's okay Jake. You should be thanking Ray for this too; I've agreed to trust his instincts on you. And I'm sorry if I upset or scared or offended you last night – I'd had a long difficult day, which is no excuse I know and I was concerned for Ray.'

'Umm,' Jake began awkwardly, 'you don't have to apologise to me,' he muttered, not missing the swift, narrow eyed glance Neela shot Ray, telling him that she had been told in no uncertain terms that she _did _have to apologise. 'I'm just grateful for all the help Ray's given me, and for you letting me stay here last night.'

This time Neela's smile was wider, warmer. 'Well, last night is all you're gonna get buddy. It's back to the hospital for you, you need to get yourself checked out. It sounds like you've had a rough time of it recently.'

He looked at Ray appealingly. 'Do I really have to go back to the hospital?' He could imagine the looks on people's faces if he went back, even with Ray by his side. He'd still be the junkie kid who broke into the drugs cabinet and stole what he needed to get a fix and nothing anyone said would persuade them otherwise. That was what people were like.

'Yes, I'm sorry Jake, but you do,' Ray said in a tone that brooked no argument. 'Neela and I have done a lot of talking last night and this morning, and we want to help you.' He put a little bit of emphasis on the "we" as if to leave Jake in no doubt that Neela was going to be just as included in this as he was. 'But there are conditions, and the first of them is that you get completely checked out medically, make sure you're physically okay.'

'When you say help me…?'

It was Neela who answered. 'Ray's told me your story, I hope you don't mind. It sounds as if there isn't a lot for you to go back to Philly for so we're going to see what we can do for you.'

'You're… you're both going to…?'

Jake was stunned. Not twelve hours ago, this woman was all for calling the police or throwing him out on the streets, and now she was sitting on the end of his bed, smiling at him encouragingly and saying that she wanted to help him. He glanced at Ray, who was grinning down at Neela and he realised that she was doing this for Ray. Not that she didn't want to help or that she didn't care, but that she knew for some reason helping him was important to Ray and so it was important to her too.

Two things struck him about that. First, that Ray _really _did care about what happened to him, and secondly, how amazing it must be to feel like that about someone. Just to be that close to another person. He didn't know much about where he wanted to go in life, but he knew that one day, he'd really really like to have what Ray and Neela had.

'Yes Jake, so don't let us down,' Ray warned, although there was a smile in his eyes that took the edge off his words.

The boy shook his head emphatically, the headache forgotten. 'Never.'

Neela picked up the tray and made her way to the door. 'Time to get up then,' she said, unaware of Ray's smirk. His mother used to say the exact same thing to him when he was Jake's age. 'We're going to County in half an hour.'


	13. Back to County

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Sorry for the enormous length of time since the last update, I've been exceptionally busy and the muses have not been particularly co-operative. Alas. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, and here you go with the next. Now I've got this done, another Epistle will be next on the cards, hopefully not too far away, as I've been dying to get back to that one.

Ray sighed, tapping at the steering wheel impatiently, waiting for the traffic lights to change to green. He was worried about taking Jake back to the hospital. In fact, his stomach was churning in the same kind of way it had been when he was in eighth grade and he asked Mandy George if she wanted to go to the movies with him on Saturday night, the same way as when he'd been holding the envelope in his hand containing his acceptance letter for med school, the exact same way as he had the first time he'd kissed Neela.

God, he was nervous. Not only was it going to be difficult to persuade people, perhaps not Kovac but many of the less understanding members of staff, that Jake should be allowed to be treated, but there was no chance that he was going to be able to keep social work away this time, and he had no idea how Jake might react to that. Admittedly, it was a very different boy he had sitting in the back of his car now than the one yesterday who had been nervous, defensive, jumpy, and done a runner with a pocket full of methadone, but Ray was fairly sure he still wouldn't take the idea of a social worker or someone similar well. Not that he could blame him in the slightest – his conversation with Doctor Del Amico had told him that Jake had got the raw end of the deal as far as social services went. On top of that, there was the minor issue that if Jake did something stupid again, it would almost definitely be the end of his residency, but Ray wasn't really thinking of himself.

His right hand was resting on the gearstick, gripping it a little too tightly, and he briefly glanced across at Neela as she placed her own hand over it before looking into the rear view mirror and meeting Jake's gaze.

'Now Jake, remember, when we get to County, just stick with me and do as you're told. And if I'm not there, do what Neela tells you.' Ray paused. 'And if neither of us are there, just do what anyone tells you.' Jake looked amused at the order, admittedly delivered in a slightly entertaining manner, but Ray didn't smile back. He had let a casual friendship fall in place between him and the boy, but he wasn't sure it was going to be entirely appropriate now they were returning to the hospital.

He tried to set things back to the Doctor – Patient dynamic by speaking in a stern voice that he wasn't exactly accustomed to. 'I mean it Jake, you're not going to be very popular after your little stunt yesterday, so just keep your head down and don't get into any trouble, okay?'

The difference in the tone was clear and Jake's smile soon died. 'Okay,' he replied quietly.

At the sound of his voice, apprehensive and awkward, Neela turned in her seat to look back at him, flashing him an encouraging look. 'Don't worry about it Jake. Everyone will probably be so busy they won't even notice you're there, that's what it's always like. Just do as Ray says, keep your head down and it will be absolutely fine.'

She reached for the dial on the stereo to turn the music up a little, intending to drown her next words. 'Ray,' she added quietly, 'you've done amazingly to get him this far. Don't go scaring him now. Last night was the easy bit, it's only going to get harder from here on in.'

'I know,' he said, letting the music wash over his words. 'That's what worries me.'

Just then, he flicked the indicator up to change lanes and glanced up into the rear view mirror to check what was behind him. As he did so, he caught sight of Jake, watching his reflection intently, clearly trying to read his lips.

Ray weaved through the traffic then looked back to Neela, flicking his glance over his shoulder to indicate Jake's eavesdropping. 'We'll do this later.'

She nodded. 'Good idea.'

It wasn't long before they reached County. That was one of the up sides of shift work Ray supposed, you didn't have to brave rush hour very often. When the doors slid open to let them in, and they walked through, Ray looked around quickly, assessing who was about. It didn't look too busy, but Frank was on the desk. He'd be all for locking Jake up and throwing away the key, and was bound to say so in a very vocal manner. He didn't really want Jake exposed to that; he could tell the boy's courage was wobbling a bit, he was hanging back, walking behind Ray rather than beside him, as he had been walking in from the car.

Ray thought about going back out and trying to get Jake in another entrance rather than having to go past Frank but there was no way that was going to work. He'd have to ask where there was a free bed anyway. And if it wasn't Frank, there would be others who would be more than willing to wade in. Morris. Weaver. Hell, Weaver had better not find him here. For all that Luka was Chief now, she'd have Jake in the nearest police station and Ray searching for a new residency programme before he'd had time to think.

Luckily, the first person who noticed them standing there was Sam. If there was one person who wasn't going to be judgemental, it was her. Troubled teenage boys were her forte.

'Hey Ray, Neela, I didn't think you two were on until ten. Don't tell me the novelty of young love has worn off already?'

Ray flashed her his best attempt at a smile, but the change in her expression told him he hadn't quite pulled it off.

'Delighted though I am to be called "young" again,' he replied, then stepped sideways to show Jake standing behind him. 'But we've kinda got a bit of a problem.' He waited for a reaction from Sam, but although she looked at Jake, there was no flicker of recognition. 'This is my escapee from yesterday,' he said.

'Oh. I see.' And now she had figured out who he was.

'He left yesterday before I had a chance to fully work him up. I've brought him back to check him over.'

Sam looked at the three of them, the boy a bag of nerves, and Ray and Neela, as close as ever but with a slight tension in the air and she decided not to ask how a teenage junkie who only the day before had escaped from this very hospital with a pocket full of drugs came to be back here, with Ray and Neela.

So instead, she smiled at Jake to try to put him at ease a little. 'Right then Jake. Why don't you come with me and we'll get you into a room. Ray, I think you should probably see Luka before you…'

'Yeah, I will.' He knew he was treading a fine line after yesterday, anything he did with Jake, Kovac would have to be involved in. 'Jake, you go with Sam. I won't be long.'

Jake looked at Ray, then to Sam, the nurse that Ray was indicating to. She was smiling at him in a friendly sort of a way, and she was clearly someone that Ray trusted, which as far as Jake was concerned, was good enough for him to trust her too. Even though he was reluctant to be back here, and doubly reluctant to stray too far from Ray or even Neela, what was the worst that could happen? They would be back, and hey, in the mean time, he was going to have a pretty nurse at his beck and call. That couldn't be all bad.

Besides, this whole vulnerability thing was beginning to get on his nerves – this was the first day in a very very long time that he had woken up in the morning and not felt full of dread about what the day might hold. His first thought hadn't been where he was going to get his next fix from, or who he might have to run or hide from today. Today was going to be a new day. A better one. It was time for Jake Ford to bounce back.

He meekly followed Sam where Ray indicated, walking a pace behind her so he could admire the view. He knew he really shouldn't, but what the hell, who would know?

They walked past the desk - there was a different guy behind there today, shorter but older and more miserable looking, but Jake didn't pay too much attention today. He wasn't casting around for an escape route like he had been yesterday. They carried on until they were in a curtain area that Jake thought he might have been in yesterday, but it all looked kind of samey so he couldn't be sure.

'All right now Jake, get up on this gurney here, and I'll go and get you a gown to change into until Ray comes back, okay?'

'Sure.' He took the gown then looked down, feigning shyness. Well, mainly feigning, he was only fifteen and a life on the streets hadn't exactly given him wild experience with girls. There had been some, obviously, but not nice ones. Not ones you'd actually want to talk to.

'Umm, Ray said you were called Sam, right?' Oh, smooth opening there Ford. Good one.

'Yeah, that's right.' Sam had been about to leave, but if the kid wanted a chat, then fine. It wasn't too busy for once, and she could tell by Ray's nerves that the situation was a delicate one.

She knew what had happened yesterday, everyone did, and although she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, except perhaps Luka, it had rattled her a little. Was there really so much to stop Alex going the same way? Would she even have the time to notice if he did? She wanted to talk to this kid, maybe see what had driven him to such a low point, so she could know, see the signs.

She flashed him a wide smile, less official and more personal than the encouraging one she had given him earlier. 'Sam Taggart. And you're Jake Ford, I hear. You're pretty famous around here, and not in a good way.'

Jake grimaced. Not _exactly _how he wanted this conversation to go. 'Well, I…'

'Hey, don't worry about it, it's none of my business.' She saw the boy's expression and regretted bringing it up, but it was difficult not to. Everyone _knew _who he was, what he'd done. It had been absolute havoc the previous day, when the theft had been discovered. Security first, then police everywhere wanting to know what was missing, Anspaugh furious, Maintenance moaning about having to fit a new door at such short notice. And all on top of multiple traumas.

'Everyone knows, huh?'

'You caused quite a stir.'

He grinned at that. 'Did I now?' Okay, maybe that was a bit more like it. Not ideal, but still.

He raised an eyebrow in that cheeky way that looked somewhat reminiscent of Ray when he was making a suggestive comment and Sam saw the glint in the boy's eye. The penny dropped. He was trying, in a very inept, teenage sort of a way, to flirt with her. She let out a quick burst of laughter, then when she saw the put out look on Jake's face she checked herself.

'There's no need to laugh,' he said indignantly, 'give a guy a break.'

'You be careful kiddo,' she chuckled. 'You've bitten off more than you can chew with me, I promise ya.'

'Sure you don't want to go out on a date and see?'

Jeez, he could do the puppy dog eyes and everything, Sam observed. This kid _is _Ray. Still, enough with the flirting though, he was only fifteen and there had to be some sort of a boundary. 'I'm practically old enough to be your mother Jake,' she said. 'I'd eat a kid like you for breakfast.'

Now it was Jake's turn to laugh. 'Now I know you're kidding me. You are _definitely _not old enough to be my mother.'

'Ah, that would be where you're wrong, well, almost. I've got a son, Alex. He's twelve.' She laughed again at the shock on Jake's face. 'Ha, see, you be careful who you chat up in future kid.'

Jake looked up at Sam and tried to gauge what she was thinking. She didn't seem to mind his woeful effort at flirting, in fact, she was more amused than anything else. Well, he supposed it was quite funny actually. He was a little embarrassed, but he couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile.

'Yeah, I will be,' he replied ruefully. 'I'm, uh, sorry, that I…'

Sam made to go, hand on the curtain, and flashed him one last smile. 'No worries. Now, do you want me to go and find Ray for you?'

'If it's not too much trouble.'

'No, no problem. You wait here okay?' She gave him a warning look.

'Yep, I will.' And this time, today, he meant it.


	14. Overreaction

Disclaimer: As before. The character Tony Soprano is mentioned in passing – obviously he belongs to the writers and creators of The Sopranos.

Author's Note: Sorry it's been a little while since you've seen an update of this story, I simply have too many stories on the go at the moment, and they don't get as much attention as they deserve. But here is the next chapter and all I can offer by way of apology is that hopefully the next wait won't be as long. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter (am I ever?!) but trust me, I know where the story's going and it will get better than this particular chapter – at least, that's what I'm intending! Many thanks to dshortklutz for telling me that this wasn't quite as rubbish as I thought it was, and okay to post. NB. A language warning goes with this chapter; it's just the one word, but it is there.

Ray found Luka stalking out of one of the trauma rooms. He stood back and watched as Kovac peeled off a bloody pair of gloves and angrily threw them aside, calling 'No, it's all right, I'll tell her family,' over his shoulder back into the room.

Great, Ray thought to himself, just fantastic. No matter how many patients you lost, you never got used to it, that irrational sense of failure and anger, and he knew exactly what Luka was feeling right at that moment. He also knew that now was a really, really bad time to ask a favour. He didn't have a choice though; he knew he had to tell him he had brought Jake back before someone else did.

'Uh, Doctor Kovac?'

Luka didn't stop walking, but slowed to allow Ray to fall into step beside him. 'Morning Ray, you're a little early for your shift aren't you?' If he had been less preoccupied, he might have noticed the younger man's nervous clenching of his fists, a slight reluctance to meet his eyes.

'Yes, a bit. I take it you lost one in there,' he said tentatively. Luka gave a tight nod. 'I'm sorry.'

'A mother of three. On her way home from walking the kids to school and some drunk driver mounted the pavement and mowed her down.' Ray winced. 'Ruptured spleen, multiple fractures, major head trauma. She never stood a chance.'

'That's rough.' Ray didn't know what else to say. It was always hard to lose a patient, but when it was something like that… God, it made you wonder what the Hell was the point of it all sometimes. He sensed Luka would prefer to have a minute to himself before he had to go and break the news to the woman's family but he knew he had to bite the bullet and tell him about Jake.

'I'm sorry to bother you,' he began tentatively, 'but I thought I should probably tell you, Jake Ford is back.'

Luka stopped walking and for the first time in the conversation, Ray felt like he had his full attention. 'The drug addict kid from yesterday?'

Ray felt a niggle of objection to Jake being described as the "drug addict kid" but he supposed in the harsh light of day, it was a fair enough assessment. 'Uh yeah, that's the one.'

Luka gave him a hard look. 'Come on Ray, hurry up. Get to the point, I have to talk to Mrs Callow's family.'

'Okay, sorry. When Neela and I got home from work last night, we found him passed out on our doorstep – he'd stolen my wallet as well yesterday when he was here so I guess that's how he knew where I lived. I didn't want to call the cops, at least, not until I'd spoken to him, so we made sure he was all right and took him in for the night.'

'And now you've brought him back here?' Luka's tone was neutral, and Ray couldn't work out what was coming next.

'Yes. I never finished checking him out yesterday so I thought it would be the best thing.'

'What about the drugs?'

'The ones he took?' Took sounded better than stole, Ray decided, although he didn't know why he was seeking to gloss over what Jake did. It wouldn't help him in the long run, he had to learn that what he did was wrong, but Ray found it hard to assimilate the softer, fifteen year old, confused and lost kid side of Jake that he had managed to uncover with the homeless teenage drug runner side that he knew was there as well.

'There were others?'

'Uh, no, no. Well, not yesterday,' he stumbled, trying to ignore the brief tsk of frustration that Luka exhaled at the hesitation. 'Look, do you have time to have to have this conversation now? Would you rather talk to your patient's family first?'

Luka seemed to realise then that Ray deserved a little more of his attention. He remembered back to yesterday, and the stricken look that Ray had been trying – and failing – to hide when he'd told him after the theft had been discovered that the boy had disappeared. For some reason, this kid had gotten under Ray's skin; it happened sometimes; and as far as Luka was concerned, it could be good for Ray. The guy was a talented doctor sure, but he didn't take things quite seriously enough; he was getting better under Neela's influence, but Luka thought, and the other attendings agreed, that he still needed something to really make him think.

'No, I'm sorry Ray. I'm listening.'

'Thank you. Well, the methadone he took yesterday he passed on to a dealer, the one who was behind his beating. From what I can make out, it was to pay off a debt.'

Luka nodded thoughtfully. 'So now there's methadone out there with a dealer with a County label on it?'

'Uhh…'

'Ray, you do get how serious this is, don't you?'

'Yes Doctor Kovac, I _get _how serious this is.' At first, Ray was just irritated at Luka's slightly patronising tone, but then the more he thought about the whole situation, the more he felt angry at it. At Jake's alcoholic mother and violent stepfather, at a system that shunted him from place to place without ever listening to, or even caring about what Jake wanted, at the scum dealers who prayed on his helplessness, and even now, the fucking County care system that was more concerned with protecting themselves than doing what they were there to do.

He felt the outburst rising in the chest, but did nothing to contain it. They could sack him for all he cared, he _wasn't _going to stand by and let Jake be failed yet again. 'But at the same time, there's a homeless, scared, beaten up kid with a drug habit he wants to kick and correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought it was our job to help people, especially those without anyone else to look after them and without the money to look after themselves. This is a County hospital, kids like Jake are what we're here for, or have I just got it _completely _wrong?'

Luka gave him a long, hard look and for a moment, Ray was worried that he had pushed it too far. Just because Kovac had been understanding yesterday that didn't mean he wasn't on thin ice. Then his boss smiled and Ray let out a breath of relief he hadn't realised he had been holding.

'No Ray, you haven't got it wrong, that's exactly what we're here for, and it's nice to hear that you see it that way. But no matter how good your intentions, you messed up yesterday, so today, you do this by the book okay?'

Ray didn't want to argue, but he wasn't sure about the terms he was being offered. 'You mean you want me to call the cops on him? I _can't _do that, that would be just… Besides, I've calmed him down a lot since yesterday, but I can't guarantee I could keep him here if the cops show.'

'Calm down Ray, did I say anything about the police? As far as everyone upstairs is concerned, the drugs are gone and that's it. Put him somewhere quiet, don't tell the world he's here, and Anspaugh and the suits don't need to know who he is.'

'Doctor Kovac, thank –' Ray began, but Luka quickly cut across him.

'Woah, I'm not done. I won't make you call the police, but you _will _page Social Work and Psych and you will present every single thing you do with him to me. Understood? Who's with him at the moment?'

Ray wanted to question Luka's ruling – he didn't think Social Work was a good idea, let alone would be of any help at all, but then, Jake was going to have to live somewhere and much as he hated the prospect of packing him off to foster care or a group home, he knew it was inevitable. Forcing his rebellion away, Ray bit his tongue and instead simply answered the question.

'I left him with Sam to get him settled in somewhere.'

'Good. I assume Neela's involved with this as well?' Ray nodded. 'Then between the three of you, make sure he isn't left unattended at any time. I know that's a big demand upon your time, but given his track record, I think it's necessary. And don't let me catch you with any fewer patients on the board than anyone else Ray.' As if he could tell what the younger doctor was thinking, Luka gave him a benevolent smile. 'I'm not trying to punish you, you know, just make you aware of the consequences of your actions. What you did yesterday, and I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same, has created this problem, and now I expect you to work hard to solve it.'

Ray saw the logic in that, and besides, he knew he was in no position to argue. In fact, he was damn lucky to still have a job, let alone anything else. 'That sounds fair.'

Luka chuckled. 'I would say that that was _more _than fair Ray. Now, go, work him up then find me to present to. I'm going to break the news to Mrs Callow's family.' Luka began to walk away, but after a few strides he turned back to Ray and called out, 'And for God's sake, keep an eye on your damn key this time!'

It was that last throwaway comment that scuppered their plans. Although he didn't like some of the things Kovac had ordered him to do, Ray had to concede that it was probably the best course, and he was particularly grateful that Luka was happy to keep Jake's presence quiet, but all of a sudden, it was all ruined.

Morris, who had that knack of always being exactly where you _didn't _want him, appeared out of nowhere in the corridor and overheard the final part of the conversation.

'Hey Ray, what did Kovac mean, "this time"? Why would you have to keep an eye on it?'

Ray turned to him, trying not to roll his eyes. 'Cos you always should. Wouldn't wanna go and lose it, would ya?' he asked, trying to be casual and hoping that Morris would be in one of his less perceptive moods.

Morris watched him for a moment, and Ray could almost see the cogs turning, albeit slowly and rather in need of a few drops of oil. Don't get there, he thought, just don't get there. But after a few more seconds, Ray saw the comprehension dawn with a painful lack of speed and he knew the game was up.

'Oh, I know what it is, it's that kid isn't it, the one who duped you yesterday. Is he back?'

'Morris…'

As he thought about it, Morris seemed to be growing more agitated. 'Yeah, yeah that druggie kid. He tore the place apart. Wasn't he a drug runner or something? Didn't he belong to a gang? Wasn't there a contract out on him?'

As Morris got more hysterical – and utterly ridiculous – Ray couldn't help a sarcastic snarl. 'Hell yeah, right up to his neck in the mob. Tony Soprano is right out there in admit looking for him.' Angry though he was, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement and worry that for a second, Morris looked like he believed him.

Then his anger at the overreaction overtook him. 'Of course he's not, don't be an idiot. And Jake's absolutely no danger to anyone, so calm down and shut up.'

'No, I won't. He's a thief and a liar and you're putting us in danger from God knows who by keeping him here.' As he was talking, Morris began to storm off down the corridor, pushing open doors. 'Where is he Ray? Where is he?'

Muttering a few obscenities under his breath, Ray quickly took off after him. 'Morris, for Christ's sake, what the Hell are you doing? Calm down man.'

'No, I won't _calm down._ Where is he?' He tugged at a few curtains, eliciting a couple of outraged yells from the patients behind them. 'I don't know how Kovac is letting you get away with this.'

Ray didn't know exactly where Sam had taken Jake to get settled so he didn't know what direction to try to steer Morris away from. He knew it could only be a matter of time before they found him – for some unknown reason, Morris seemed to have gone completely crazy – and after a couple more curtains, the yell of fright from the startled patient was distinctly familiar.

'There, there, that's him, isn't it? That's the thieving little junkie!' Morris was gesticulating wildly and his face had turned almost as red as his hair.

Immediately, Ray jumped between Morris and the boy. He wasn't sure where Sam was, presumably off somewhere looking for him, but Jake looked utterly terrified, scrambling back on the bed in wide eyed terror and instinctively Ray felt the need to protect him.

'Back off Morris.' There was a warning note in his voice that, had the other doctor been thinking straight, he couldn't have failed to notice.

'I want some hard restraints on him, keep him here until the cops arrive.'

Dimly, Ray heard Jake calling out behind him, something about being promised no cops, and asking what was happening, but he was too angry to listen now. All he could think of was that Jake was scared and he'd worked so damn hard to calm him down, help him, get him here, and he was _not _going to let an asshole like Morris ruin it. He'd put his own backside on the line, and it had been paying off until now. Without really thinking what he was doing, he grabbed him by his collar and squeezed just hard enough to make the face in front of him turn a touch redder.

'Hey, what are you doing man?' Morris choked out, his flailing arms trying to push Ray away.

Then, before Ray had the chance to do anything else, the curtain was pulled back again and Luka was standing there, towering above them all and eyes black with fury.

'_What the Hell is going on?_'


End file.
